 | Idyls and pastorals |  |
41
A SUNNY NOOK.
'Mid bayberry, fern, sweet brier,
With many a nodding weed,
And the golden-rod's plume of fire,
I have made a nest indeed!
Against the earth's warm breast,
All fragrant with yielding moss
And spicy twigs, I rest,
While the leaves in the light airs toss,
And I feel a part of the good, glad earth
In her summer mood of joy and mirth.
With many a nodding weed,
And the golden-rod's plume of fire,
I have made a nest indeed!
Against the earth's warm breast,
All fragrant with yielding moss
And spicy twigs, I rest,
While the leaves in the light airs toss,
And I feel a part of the good, glad earth
In her summer mood of joy and mirth.
O who would covet a throne
When a nook could be found like this
Any peasant might call his own,
With its boon of innocent bliss?
With the bird and the bee to share
Such largess of sunshine sweet,
Afar from the loud world's care,
And its turmoil of hurrying feet!
I envy no king in the world, not I,
As here on the earth's warm breast I lie!
When a nook could be found like this
42
With its boon of innocent bliss?
With the bird and the bee to share
Such largess of sunshine sweet,
Afar from the loud world's care,
And its turmoil of hurrying feet!
I envy no king in the world, not I,
As here on the earth's warm breast I lie!
| Idyls and pastorals | |