Up into the cherry tree,
who would clim but little me.
I held the trunk with both my hands,
and look abroad on foreign lands..
I saw the mext door garden lie,
adorned with flowers before my eye
and many pleasant plaves more
that I had never seen before..
I saw the dimpling river pass
and be the sky's blue looking glass
the dusty roads go up and down
with people trampling into town..
If I could find a higher tree,
further and further I would see
to where the grown-up river slips
into the sea among the ships
to where the roads on either hand
lead onward into foreign lands..
