Nature's Child.

I love to tread the solitudes,     The forests and the trackless woods,     Where nature, undisturbed by man,     Pursues her voluntary plan.     Where nature's chemistry distills     The fountains and the laughing rills,     I love to quaff her sparkling wine,     And breathe the fragrance of the pine.     I love to dash the crystal dews     From floral shapes of varied hues,     And interweave the modest white     Of columbine in garlands bright.     I love to lie within the shade,     On grassy couch, by nature made,     And listen to the warbling notes     From her fair songsters' feathered throats.     And freed from artificial wants,     I love to dwell in nature's haunts,     And by the mountain's crystal lake     A rustic habitation make.     I love to scale the mountain height     And watch the eagle in his flight,     Or gaze upon the azure sea     Of aerial immensity.     I love the busy marts of trade,     I love the things which men have made,     Though man has charms, none such as these,     In him the child of nature sees.