III.

Come to the forest or the musky meadows Brown with their mellow grain; Come where the cascades shake green shadows, Where tawny orchards reign. Come where fall reapers ply the scythe, Where golden sheaves are heaped by damsels blithe: Come to the rock-rough mountain old, Tree-pierced and wild; Where freckled flowers paint the wold, Hail laughing Summer, sunny-haired, blonde child!