Beneath the forest trees I lie,
And watch the deep blue summer sky,
And count the white cranes floating by
On level wings;
And in the undergrowth I hear
A bittern softly treading near,
While through the willows, sweet and clear,
A wood-thrush sings.
And flashing, plashing, close to me,
With murmurous, melting melody,
The swirling, crystal Kankakee
Flows deep and swift
Through liquid tints and tones untold
Of topaz, turquoise, bronze and gold,
That in its lucent depths unfold
And drift, and sift,
Till down among the pearly shells
A wealth of changeful color dwells;
And like a string of silver bells
The ripples ring
Through trailing water-weeds that raise
Their tangled, yellow blossom-sprays
Where in a green and golden maze
Tall rushes swing.
And far across the glassy tide,
The marshes shimmer, low and wide,
Where birds and bees and wild things hide
In reedy grass
Whose wavering, evanescent hues
Pale, darken, change, and interfuse,
Till my enchanted senses lose
All things that pass,
And only feel an exquisite
Glad throb of light and life complete;
While like some subtile essence sweet,
The wilderness,
The perfumes warm of wave and wood
The silence of the solitude,
All merge and mingle in my mood,
Till half I guess
The secrets that the winds impart,
And draw so near to nature’s heart
I feel her inmost pulses start;
While happily
I sink upon her fragrant breast,
Like yonder thrush within its nest,
And deep, entrancing sense of rest
Steals over me.