Myrrh and spikenard in the East

Multiply the Persian's feast,

And our northern wilderness

Boasts its fruits our lips to bless.

Wouldst enjoy a magic sight,

And so heal vexation's spite?

Hasten to my blueberry swamp,—

Green o'erhead the wild bird's camp;

Here in thickets bending low,

Thickly piled the blueberries grow,