WILL you go to the woodlands with me, with me,
Will you go to the woodlands with me?
When the sun's on the hill, and all nature is still,
Save the sound of the far-dashing sea.
For I love to lie lone on the hill, the hill,
I love to lie lone on the hill,
When earth, sea, and sky, in loveliness vie,
And all nature around me is still.
Then my fancy is ever awake, awake,
My fancy is never asleep;
Like a bird on the wing, like a swan on the lake,
Like a ship far away on the deep.
And I love 'neath the green boughs to lie, to lie;
I love 'neath the green boughs to lie;
And see far above, like the smiling of love,
A glimpse, now and then, of the sky.
When the hum of the forest I hear, I hear,
When the hum of the forest I hear,—
'Tis solitude's prayer, pure devotion is there,
And its breathings I ever revere.—
I kneel myself down on the sod, the sod,
I kneel myself down on the sod,
'Mong the flowers and wild heath, and an orison breathe
In lowliness up to my God.
Then peace doth descend on my mind, my mind,
Then peace doth descend on my mind;
And I gain greater scope to my spirit and hope,
For both then become more refined.
Oh! whatever my fate chance to be, to be,
My spirit shall never repine,
If a stroll on the hill, if a glimpse of the sea,
If the hum of the forest be mine.