Through briery wastes where wild birds dwell,
Deep in the shade of some rocky dell;
Where the pennyroyal and mint smell sweet,
And the blackberry ripens in cool and heat;
Down the winding path by the rippling rill,
By the old-time creek, by the dear old mill;
By the vine-clad fence, in the alder’s shade
Where woodchucks and merry squirrels invade;
Through spreading fields of daisies bright,
Where butterflies roam from morn till night;