But the beautiful artist had touched him off
With an extra tint or so;
And he held his own very well with the rest,
On which, I am sure, she had done her best,
Dressing each in the fairest kind of a vest,
Till the forest was all aglow.
There were the willow that grew by the brook,
And the old oak on the hill,
The graceful elm tree down in the swale,
The birch, the ash, and the bass-wood pale,