The squirrel in the greenwood hides,
His haunts I know full well;
Along the meadows flower-bestrewn,
I hear the humming-bee;
I cannot live apart from these,—
A country life for me!
“’Twas there I roved in years gone by
With careless step and fleet,
And scarcely deigned to pluck the flowers
That blossomed at my feet.