Fair as the morn is the wild-wood’s scene, Where the sunlight dances on carpeted green; Where the lilies and violets star the brook, And the thrush and the blackbird are singing their book.
O nature, what beauty thy bounty has spread, Of flower and fern, where the rich moss is spread; And the rippling waters that laugh as they run, In the cheer of thy presence, O beautiful sun!
- George Edmund Street