Belongs back in town and not here out-of-

doors.

Leave there city manners, creased trousers,

your “job,”

Bring here to the woods your tobacco and cob,

The hemlocks above you will tenderly sigh

As the incense from pipe bowls drifts past to

the sky.

Ah, human magician, the secret is yours!

Would you work mystic charms in the world