LET US GO TO THE WOODS. 
23 
Here’s the Pigeon-pea, fit for a fairy’s 
bowers, 
And the purple Thrift, straightest and prim¬ 
mest of flowers. 
Here is Privet, no prettier shrub have we 
met; 
And the Midsummer-daisy is hiding here 
yet. 
But stay—we are now on the high hill’s 
brow! 
How bright lie the fields in the sunlight 
below! 
Do you see those white chimneys that peep 
o’er the grove 1 
I ’Tis your own little cottage, the home that 
you love; 
Let us go by the fields where the Chinqua¬ 
pins are, 
! And through the long lane where the Chest¬ 
nuts hang fair, 
They are scarcely yet ripe, but their tender 
green 
Looks lovely the dark clustering foliage 
between : 
And we’ll stop at the nest that we found in 
the wood. 
And see if the blackbird hath flown with 
her brood: 
