When the trout the glassy surface break,
And the doe comes down her thirst to slake,
With her dappled fawn by her side.
Where the loon’s loud laugh rings wild and clear,
Where the black duck rears her brood;
Where the tall blue heron with mien austere,
Poised on one leg at the marge of the mere,
Muses in solitude.
Yes, sweet and fair are the forest glades,
Where the world’s rude clamours cease;