A Young Fir-Wood

These little firs to-day are things 
To clasp into a giant’s cap, 
Or fans to suit his lady’s lap. 
From many winters many springs 
Shall cherish them in strength and sap 
Till they be marked upon the map, 
A wood for the wind’s wanderings. 
All seed is in the sower’s hands: 
And what at first was trained to spread 
Its shelter for some single head,— 
Yea, even such fellowship of wands,— 
May hide the sunset, and the shade 
Of its great multitude be laid 
Upon the earth and elder sands. 
Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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