The huddling violets with their blue eyes,
And the red strawberries with their ripe pouting lips,
Letting their sweet blood flow
Till the green velvet of the grass blushed like a sunset cloud.
And so we journeyed on,
Resting upon the brawny shoulder
Of the honest settler.
At sunset he made us work,
And we bit into the trees,
And formed his night-bower in the forest.