| VOL. VIII. | JUNE, 1900. | NO. 1 |
| Alone with nature I love to roam, 'Midst forest shades' o'er meadows green, Where the soft winds blow 'neath the azure dome, And only the Works of God are seen. Away, away, from the city's din, Long murmuring brooks, by placid ponds; Far from the sight of human sin, And moral weakness in Satan's bonds. Away, away 'neath the towering trees, Where the thrush pours forth his wildwood song. And the grey squirrel nimbly leaps with ease, From branch to branch of the maple strong. Where the hornets build their marvelous nest, And hang it high from human foe. Where the blackbird 'neath her soft warm breast Shelters her young when the storm winds blow. Where the tortoise gravely stalks along Like sage of old in sombre thought, And the great horned owl in utterance strong Bemoans the changes time has wrought. Along the hillsides facing south, Where the earliest wild-flowers may be found; Where the big bull-frog with cavernous mouth, Welcomes Spring from the marshy ground. Where the red-wing, swinging among the reeds, Saucily sings, "Yer can't cum 'ere." Where the cunning rail-bird yearly breeds, And raises her brood with little fear. On the banks of streams to lie, And watch the gambols of the fish, While the pond-turtles lazily bask near by, In indolent freedom from care or wish. Thus with Nature to commune, And to note her creatures gay; While mind and heart are in attune, With creation's work from day to day. |
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F. ALEX. LUCAS.
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