Where the cunning rail-bird yearly breeds,
And raises her brood with little fear.
On the banks of streams to lie,
And watch the gambols of the fish,
While the pond-turtles lazily bask near by,
In indolent freedom from care or wish.
Thus with Nature to commune,
And to note her creatures gay;
While mind and heart are in attune,
With creation's work from day to day.