IN THE FOREST
In the leafy fastness of the forest, there are sounds of mirth and gladness,
Strange wild symphonies that tell of peace and rest,
Dulcet cadences, unlike, unakin unto the noises heard in marts of human strife and madness,
Vile discords that make existence in life’s crowded hippodromes seem displeasurable, irreligious and unblest.
Deep, deep in the shady sanctuaries of the wildwood
Druid lives of old were happily lived and beautiful I find;
What tho’ Nature’s children sometimes seem harsh and rude!
They never really are ungrateful or unkind.
Deep, deep in the peaceful quiet sylvans, rosebuds fall and fade.
Littering the green-sward o’er whereon I lie,
Yet dreaming still “beneath my bowers, blossom-woven shade”
Blissfully I linger, while the summer days go by.