There naught is heard but soothing woodland sounds,
The tempered roar of distant waterfall,
The fox’s sharp bark, the heathcock’s cheerful crow.
The wildcat’s growl amid the deepest shade,
And the shrill scream of hunger-driven hawk,
As through the openings he pursues his prey.
Amid the tents upon the highest spot,
The preachers’ stand in humble form appears,
And by its side the horn with mellow note,
To give the signal meet for praise and prayer.