'If I could whisper you all I know,'
Said the Old Fool in the Wood,
'You'd never say that green leaves grow.
You'd say, 'Ah, what a happy mood
The Master must be in today,
To think such thoughts,'
That's what you'd say.'

'If I could whisper you all I've heard,'
Said the Old Fool in the fern,
'You'd never say the song of a bird.
You'd say, 'I'll listen, and p'raps I'll learn
One word of His joy as He passed this way,
One syllable more,'
That's what you'd say.'

'If I could tell you all the rest,'
Said the Old Fool under the skies,
'You'd hug your griefs against your breast
And whisper with love-lit eyes,
'I am one with the sorrow that made the may,
And the pulse of His heart,'
That's what you'd say.'