Where one can almost hear the elfin choir
Across the meadow-land, down in the wood,
In songs of gladness—there are all things good.
Ah! ye who seek the spot where joys abide,
Awake! Awake! Seek out the country-side,
And through the blue-gray July haze see life
All free from care, from sorrow, and from strife.
MAY 30, 1893
It seemed to be but chance, yet who shall say
That ’twas not part of Nature’s own sweet way,