As a place where the wild and free rejoice.
Nor doth the storied and ivied arch
Woo the heart with half so sweet a voice
As the bowering arms of the wild-wood larch,
Where the clematis and wild woodbine
Festoon the flowering eglantine;
Where in every flower, shrub, and tree
Is heard the hum of the honey-bee,
And the linden blossoms are softly stirred,
As the fanning wings of the humming-bird