IN THE WOODS
I COME, ye lovely wild-wood groves,Where placid contemplation roves,And breathes untroubled air;I come to woo your genial sweets,To wander in your green retreats,And lose the sense of care.Unformed to brook the vulgar strifeAnd heartlessness of worldly life,I court your silent gloom—Where Thought may nurse, without annoy,The soothing sense of native joy—The soul's inherent bloom.Receive me to your fostering arms—Surround me with your varied charmsOf birds and streams and flowers;And bless me with the sweet reposeThat crowns the simple thoughts of thoseWho love your leafy bowers.Here in the ancient forest maze,Remote from Mammon's specious ways,And wandering at my will,Herbs, flowers, and trees shall be my friends,And birds and streamlets make amendsFor much of earthly ill.Yet give me here a kindred tie—Affection's sympathetic eye,And kind consoling tone;For though the multitude are cold,And anxious most for sordid gold,I would not live alone.The heart—the heart is human still,And yearns for trusting love to fillIts frequent, aching void;Unless partaken with our kind,The sweetest joys of sense and mindAre not enough enjoyed.Then will I seek repose from strife,The tender ministries of life,And peace, the timid dove,In one still calm, one dear retreat,The circle of my cottage sweet—The home of wedded love.
I COME, ye lovely wild-wood groves,Where placid contemplation roves,And breathes untroubled air;I come to woo your genial sweets,To wander in your green retreats,And lose the sense of care.Unformed to brook the vulgar strifeAnd heartlessness of worldly life,I court your silent gloom—Where Thought may nurse, without annoy,The soothing sense of native joy—The soul's inherent bloom.Receive me to your fostering arms—Surround me with your varied charmsOf birds and streams and flowers;And bless me with the sweet reposeThat crowns the simple thoughts of thoseWho love your leafy bowers.Here in the ancient forest maze,Remote from Mammon's specious ways,And wandering at my will,Herbs, flowers, and trees shall be my friends,And birds and streamlets make amendsFor much of earthly ill.Yet give me here a kindred tie—Affection's sympathetic eye,And kind consoling tone;For though the multitude are cold,And anxious most for sordid gold,I would not live alone.The heart—the heart is human still,And yearns for trusting love to fillIts frequent, aching void;Unless partaken with our kind,The sweetest joys of sense and mindAre not enough enjoyed.Then will I seek repose from strife,The tender ministries of life,And peace, the timid dove,In one still calm, one dear retreat,The circle of my cottage sweet—The home of wedded love.
I COME, ye lovely wild-wood groves,Where placid contemplation roves,And breathes untroubled air;I come to woo your genial sweets,To wander in your green retreats,And lose the sense of care.
I COME, ye lovely wild-wood groves,
Where placid contemplation roves,
And breathes untroubled air;
I come to woo your genial sweets,
To wander in your green retreats,
And lose the sense of care.
Unformed to brook the vulgar strifeAnd heartlessness of worldly life,I court your silent gloom—Where Thought may nurse, without annoy,The soothing sense of native joy—The soul's inherent bloom.
Unformed to brook the vulgar strife
And heartlessness of worldly life,
I court your silent gloom—
Where Thought may nurse, without annoy,
The soothing sense of native joy—
The soul's inherent bloom.
Receive me to your fostering arms—Surround me with your varied charmsOf birds and streams and flowers;And bless me with the sweet reposeThat crowns the simple thoughts of thoseWho love your leafy bowers.
Receive me to your fostering arms—
Surround me with your varied charms
Of birds and streams and flowers;
And bless me with the sweet repose
That crowns the simple thoughts of those
Who love your leafy bowers.
Here in the ancient forest maze,Remote from Mammon's specious ways,And wandering at my will,Herbs, flowers, and trees shall be my friends,And birds and streamlets make amendsFor much of earthly ill.
Here in the ancient forest maze,
Remote from Mammon's specious ways,
And wandering at my will,
Herbs, flowers, and trees shall be my friends,
And birds and streamlets make amends
For much of earthly ill.
Yet give me here a kindred tie—Affection's sympathetic eye,And kind consoling tone;For though the multitude are cold,And anxious most for sordid gold,I would not live alone.
Yet give me here a kindred tie—
Affection's sympathetic eye,
And kind consoling tone;
For though the multitude are cold,
And anxious most for sordid gold,
I would not live alone.
The heart—the heart is human still,And yearns for trusting love to fillIts frequent, aching void;Unless partaken with our kind,The sweetest joys of sense and mindAre not enough enjoyed.
The heart—the heart is human still,
And yearns for trusting love to fill
Its frequent, aching void;
Unless partaken with our kind,
The sweetest joys of sense and mind
Are not enough enjoyed.
Then will I seek repose from strife,The tender ministries of life,And peace, the timid dove,In one still calm, one dear retreat,The circle of my cottage sweet—The home of wedded love.
Then will I seek repose from strife,
The tender ministries of life,
And peace, the timid dove,
In one still calm, one dear retreat,
The circle of my cottage sweet—
The home of wedded love.