Let none who list’n to music grand—
And none who love to read—
And none who gaze on paintings fine—
And none who clap for dance—
Let not one of them look upon
The works of humankind
And tell you that a man cannot
Move mountains with his hands.
Let none who list’n to music grand—
And none who love to read—
And none who gaze on paintings fine—
And none who clap for dance—
Let not one of them look upon
The works of humankind
And tell you that a man cannot
Move mountains with his hands.

High and low do clouds float by
Large and small they are
Wond’ring what they are do I
They fly so very far
This one is a wooden ship
This, a sneaking cat
Then they toss and turn and whip
Into this or that
I so wonder why they seem
To show us heav’nly arts
Maybe when the people dream
The clouds reflect their hearts