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Nearness of Nature

From the Omaha Daily Bee, April 21, 1914.

Nature is no distant dame
    All aloofness in her mien;
Mistress Nature is the same
    Unto peasant, unto queen—
Yea, the sun of summer sweet
    Shuttered from a sheltered crown
Kisses little children’s feet
    That are bravely bare and brown.

They who seek her need not fare
    Over dim, mysterious hills;
Always she is sitting there
    On our dusty window sills.
When the traffic hesitates
    Where the human river pours
Nature creeps through city gates
    Knocking at our city doors.

Nature plants courageous grass
    In the cobbled market place
Where the weary thousands pass
    Bent of form and sad of face.
She comes creeping, creeping so
    From the country unawares,
With her roses in a row
    And her ivy on the stairs.

Only just a little way,
    Alley first and avenue,
Out a road of sturdy clay
    Mistress Nature beckons you.
Very near the busy mart,
    Very near the huts of men,
Nature waits with merry heart—
    Let her make you glad again.

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