When soft May breezes fan the early woods,

And with her magic wand the blue-ey'd Spring

Quickens the swelling blossoms and the buds,

Then forth the russet partridge leads her brood,

While on the fallen tree-trunk drums her mate;

The quail her young in tangled thicket hides,

The dun deer with their fawns the forests range,

The wild-geese platoons hasten far in air;

The wild-ducks from their Southern lagoons pass,

And soaring high their Northwood journeying take;

The dusky coot along the coastline sweep;

The piping snipe and plover, that frequent

The sandy bars and beaches, wing their flight,

And all the grassy prairies of the West,

Teem with the speckled younglings of the grouse;

And all the budding forests and the streams

Are gay with beauty, joyous with young life.

On every thing are traced decay and change.

Look! how the shifting seasons slip away.

For soon, very soon do men forget

Their friends upon whom Death's seal is set.

Time's fling wheel leaves little trace behind.

The rich pearl of life,

Soon moulders in its blackened urn, the tomb.

E'en Beauty mourns in her decaying bower,

That Time upon her angel brow should set

His crooked autograph, and mar the jet

Of glossy locks. Lo! how her chaplet green,

The hoar frost and the canker worm destroy.

Decay's dull film obscures those matchless eyes.

Go and walk with Nature; thou wilt find

Full many a gem in her enchanted cup.