“I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~And climb black branches up a snow-white trunkToward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,But dipped its top and set me down again.That would be good both going and coming back.One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”

“One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”

“So was I once myself a swinger of birches.And so I dream of going back to be.”

“In A Glass of CiderIt seemed I was a mite of sedimentThat waited for the bottom to fermentSo I could catch a bubble in ascent.I rode up on one till the bubble burst,And when that left me to sink back reversedI was no worse off than I was at first.I'd catch another bubble if I waited.The thing was to get now and then elated.”

“I'd like to get away from earth awhileAnd then come back to it and begin over.May no fate wilfully misunderstand meAnd half grant what I wish and snatch me awayNot to return. Earth's the right place for love:I don't know where it's likely to go better.”

“ Outside, a birch tree bends from the weight of the snow. it'll spring back up once the snow melts, back to its normal, upright self. could that happen to me ?”

“Go climb a tree, and don’t come down until you’ve reached the top”