“ The feathery fern, the feathery fern, 
It groweth wild and it groweth free, 
By the rippling brook and the wimpling burn, 
And the tall and stately forest tree ; 
Where the merle and the mavis sweetly sing, 
And the blue-jay makes the woods to ring, 
And the pheasant flies on whirring wing 
Beneath a verdurous canopy. 
“ The feathery fern, the feathery fern, 
An emerald sea, it waveth wide, 
And seems to flash, to gleam and burn, 
« Like the ceaseless flow of a golden tide ; 
On bushy slope or in leafy glade, 
Amid the twilight depths of shade, 
By interlacing branches made 
And trunks with lichens glorified,” 
