Sing of the pastures with flowers agleam, Of meadows that roll, undulating streams, Where children dance through fields of green, Nature’s laughter echoed, serene.

Blessed by the sun in the softest embrace, The beauty of earth highlights her grace, As every crag, every hill and fold, Shares stories of life in the softest mold.

Let the gladness of leaves sway your heart, Each petal a part of creation’s art, For what is nature, if not a song, Of harmonious beauty where we belong?

• Walt Whitman