The little self and the big self walked in a wood,

As in a play.

The big self was wary; he knew that the wood

Did dabble in selves in its pastoral way.

But the little self, the child,

Little knowing the trying and testing of selves by woods,

Lusted for sylvan simplicities, and said to the big self,

“Man, could I buy these goods?”

So the big self, very mature, said he’d have to ponder,

And excused himself and went and sat in an empty spot,

And looked high in the pine trees and low in the pine roots,

And returned at length and queried, “How much have you got?”

The child allowed he had ten or twelve bucks in his pocket

For such woodland wild—

To whom should he make his offer? And the big self murmured,

“To the child, child.”