Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from The Legend of the Trailing Arbutus
N or yet from notes of warbling bird Was this strange tale in wonder heard; Not dancing stream, nor sighing breeze, Nor insects humming in the trees The story was not told by these.
A tiny voice, so low and sweet, Made clearest music at my feet, And as I stooped to listen well That I to others, too, might tell, A blossom from arbutus vine Lifted its sweet face to mine.
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