And all their tangled stems the red
Sweet clover blossoms overspread.
Near by, through scented, leafy veils
Of wreathing vines, and dewy, dense
Green underwood, a brood of quails
Sped swiftly past the ragged rails
That tilted off a mossy fence;
And over it, on airy wing,
A robin paused in glad content
Where budding elder-bushes leant