Midst the birds and honey-bees!
“All, all our own shall the forests be,
As to the bound of the roebuck free!
None shall say, ‘Hither, no further pass!’
We will track each step through the wavy grass
We will chase the elk in his speed and might,
And bring proud spoils to the hearth at night.”
“But, oh! the gray church-tower,
And the sound of Sabbath bell,
And the shelter’d garden-bower,