’Mid the scenes that grace our woodland home.
The notes of the song-bird echo there,
And are warbled again by our sisters fair;
And the tones of each pure and gentle thing,
Are voiced in the strains the fairies sing.
Away from the cares and toils of life,
No part have we in its scenes of strife,
But calm as the sleep of the tideless sea,
Our rest in our Fairy Home shall be.
S. H.