Did ever rest by tranquil stream,
In Maple copse, neath amber bower,
There to ponder pleasant dream,
Midst opulence of Nature’s power?
Did ever smell a forest floor,
Its perfume forever rife,
Eternal turmoil to the fore,
Where death transforms to life.
Did ever walk on forest path,
Where shades obscured the sun,
An anxious sense of virgin wrath,
Did force your heart to run?
Did ever hear gnarled oak tree cry,
A chipmunk’s song,
Or Cougar’s sigh,
Linger still for you may erelong.
Did ever see a woodland sprite,
A goblin, nymph or gnome,
Take silent walk in late, late night,
Perhaps you’ll find one home.
Did ever sit by burning log
A chill to warm, alone you thought,
Yet voice did hear within your fog,
“Rest my child, your sins I bought.”
