William Gilmore Simms (1806–1870)

WOODS, waters, have a charm to soothe the ear,

When common sounds have vexed it: when the day

Grows sultry, and the crowd is in thy way,

And working in thy soul much coil and care,

Betake thee to the forest: in the shade

Of pines, and by the side of purling streams

That prattle all their secrets in their dreams,

Unconscious of a listener—unafraid—

Thy soul shall feel their freshening, and the truth

Of nature then, reviving in thy heart,

Shall bring thee the best feelings of thy youth,

When in all natural joys thy joy had part,

Ere lucre and the narrowing toils of trade

Had turned thee to the thing thou wast not made.