 | Poems of home and country |  |
335
A SONG IN THE WOODS.
In the cool and leafy grove,
Hand in hand we love to rove,
While in every shady tree,
Birds tune up their melody;
Let us join their happy song,
And the harmony prolong.
Hand in hand we love to rove,
While in every shady tree,
Birds tune up their melody;
Let us join their happy song,
And the harmony prolong.
Of the mighty oaks we'll sing,
And the flowers that near them spring;
Of the trees above our head,
And the grass on which we tread;
Of the little verdant hills,
Purling brooks, and running rills.
And the flowers that near them spring;
Of the trees above our head,
And the grass on which we tread;
Of the little verdant hills,
Purling brooks, and running rills.
Listen how the rustling leaves,
Ever quivering in the breeze,
Send forth each a separate sound
To the echoing woods around,—
Sounds of praise to Him who made
Pine-clad hills and forest-glade.
Ever quivering in the breeze,
Send forth each a separate sound
To the echoing woods around,—
Sounds of praise to Him who made
Pine-clad hills and forest-glade.
See around the brilliant flowers,
Freshened by the evening showers,
Bright by morning, bright by night,
When comes, and when fades, the light
In the cool and leafy grove,
Hand in hand we love to rove.
Freshened by the evening showers,
Bright by morning, bright by night,
When comes, and when fades, the light
In the cool and leafy grove,
Hand in hand we love to rove.
| Poems of home and country | |