The Tree Stands Very Straight And Still

By Annette Wynne

The tree stands very straight and still
All night long far on the hill;
But if I go and listen near
A million little sounds I hear,
The leaves are little whispering elves
Talking, playing by themselves,
Playing softly altogether
In the warm or windy weather,
Talking softly to the sky
Or any bird that dartles by,
O little elves within the tree,
Is there no word to tell to me?