THE VOICES OF NATURE.
The various song
Of chanting birds that sweetly throng
Their native skies,
Or careless hopping, wanton on
Earth's leafy trees;
The busy hum of droning bees;
The chirruping and piping thrill
Of insect life on vale and hill;
The brooding turtle's coo;
The distant lowing herd and bleating sheep,
That soothe the drowsy sluggard's early sleep;
The croak and drum of frogs, and whistle too
That from the marsh arise;
The soughing wind;
The tempest raging and unkind,
In forest dim and lonely wood,
The cascade dashing down the glen;
The fountain laughing in the fen;
The wildly-warbling, running brook—
A thread of silver sheen,
That warbles past
Where poets love to dream,
With shades of spreading boughs o'ercast,
And golden sunshine oft between—
A little rhyme from nature's book;
The murmur of the river's flow,
Crooning soft and low,
Gliding, gliding to the sea,
