And twittering bears the moistened gift

A nest on the eaves to rear;

The twinkling feet of flock and herd

Have trodden a path to me,

And the fox and the squirrel come to drink

In the shade of the alder-tree.

“The sunburnt child, with its rounded foot,

Comes hither with me to play,

And I feel the thrill of his lightsome heart

As he dashes the merry spray.