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.