8 o September. 
Beautiful nurslings of the early dew ! 
Fanned in your loveliness by every breeze, 
And shaded o’er by green and arching trees, 
I often wish that I were one of you, 
Dwelling afar upon the grassy leas— 
I love ye all! 
Beautiful watchers, day and night ye wake ! 
The evening star grows dim and fades away, 
And morning comes and goes, and then the day 
Within the arms of night its rest doth take, 
But ye are watchful wheresoe’er we stray— 
I love ye all! 
Beautiful objects of the wild bee’s love, 
The wild bird joys your opening bloom to see, 
And in your native woods and wilds to be ! 
All hearts to Nature true ye strangely move, 
Ye are so passing fair—so passing free— 
I love ye all! 
Beautiful children of the glen and dell, 
The dingle deep, the moorland stretching wide, 
And of the mossy fountain’s sedgy side, 
Ye o'er my heart have thrown a lovesome spell; 
And though the worldling, scorning, may deride— 
I love ye all! 
R. Nicol. 
— HCJ — 
