Oriental Scenes, Dramatic Sketches and Tales/Stanzas—The greenwood—the greenwood
STANZAS.
The greenwood! the greenwood!
How pleasant it would be
To build a little mossy hut
Beneath the forest tree
To climb each green and grassy knoll,
To pierce each leafy haunt,
And listen with delighted ears
To every wild bird's chaunt.
The greenwood! the greenwood!
How bright the sunbeams gleam,
Chequered by many a waving bough
Upon the dancing stream.
And there the dainty harebells grow,
There roams the vagrant bee,
And every gale that stirs the trees were
Makes thrilling melody.
The greenwood! the greenwood!
How balmy is the air,
How sweet the morning breeze that fans
The roebuck in his lair.
Oh! would that from these hated walls
I too might roam as free,
And tread the turf with steps as light
And heart as full of glee.
The greenwood! the greenwood!
How bright the dew-drops shine,
How gracefully the ivy wreaths
Around the old oaks twine.
Take all the feasts and festivals
This darksome city yields—
Give me the shade of forest bowers,
The sun-light of the fields.