  Where blue-bells nod beneath the trees And violets scent the summer breeze I love to lie the whole day long And listen to the wild bird’s song, While bees hum in their harmonies. Proud wealth can buy its days of ease, But not made up of hours like these; To none doth rank or fame belong Where blue-bells nod. In vain the arts may strive to please The sense with novel images; For me, this sweet, cool fern among, All Nature’s right, all Art is wrong; Ah! leave me with my birds and bees, Where blue-bells nod. |
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