Massachusetts Spy And Worcester Advertiser

FOR THE MASSACHUSETTS SPY.

There's beauty in the wood
Its hue is of the brightest green,
And, though above fair flowers are seen,
More softly do the violets glow
Reclining in the shade below ;
The dewdrop's tints are brighter made
When on the green leaves they are laid ;
And sun and moon are sweet to view.
In broken fragments gleaming through.

There's beauty in the wood.

There's music in the wood :
'Tis not alone the thrilling note
Of melody, breath'd from the throat
Of every tenant of the air.
That builds her nest and carols there ;
But oft, among the towering trees,
Eolus sends his gentlest breeze,
Sighs through the grove his roundelay,
And dies, in whispering breaths, away.

There's music in the wood.

There's quiet in the wood ;
Around, let jocund glee and mirth,
And noisy folly shake the earth,
Around, let guilt and sorrow reign,
Murder and war, and grief and pain :
Here, where no maddening tempests rave,
The hermit seeks his silent cave,
He dreams in joy, for peace is found.
Nor knows the pangs that rage around.

There's quiet in the wood.