WILD OAT. 



To the green and sunlit forest, 



Late so gray, 



Come the careless robins daily, 

 There to call and carol gayly, 

 And the chime of blossom-bells 

 Fuller harmony foretells, 

 In the borders of the forest 



Ringing in the May ! 



Waits the flower amid her shadows 



All the day, 



And the slender birch-tree glistens 

 Where she droops her head and listens, 

 And her footprints I discover 

 Where the sweet-fern closes over, 

 Round the edges of the woodlands, 



Tender with the May ! 



O the lights of earth and heaven, 



Growing day by day ; 

 O the winds among the grasses, 

 Showers, along the mountain passes ; 

 O the shy, straw-colored bell 

 In the shadow of the dell, 

 Heir to all the early freedom 



Of the May ! 



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