  Beneath the forest trees I lie, And watch the deep blue summer sky, And count the white cranes floating by On level wings; And in the undergrowth I hear A bittern softly treading near, While through the willows, sweet and clear, A wood-thrush sings. And flashing, plashing, close to me, With murmurous, melting melody, The swirling, crystal Kankakee Flows deep and swift Through liquid tints and tones untold Of topaz, turquoise, bronze and gold, That in its lucent depths unfold And drift, and sift, Till down among the pearly shells A wealth of changeful color dwells; And like a string of silver bells The ripples ring Through trailing water-weeds that raise Their tangled, yellow blossom-sprays Where in a green and golden maze Tall rushes swing. The marshes shimmer, low and wide, Where birds and bees and wild things hide In reedy grass Whose wavering, evanescent hues Pale, darken, change, and interfuse, Till my enchanted senses lose All things that pass, And only feel an exquisite Glad throb of light and life complete; While like some subtile essence sweet, The wilderness, The perfumes warm of wave and wood The silence of the solitude, All merge and mingle in my mood, Till half I guess The secrets that the winds impart, And draw so near to nature’s heart I feel her inmost pulses start; While happily I sink upon her fragrant breast, Like yonder thrush within its nest, And deep, entrancing sense of rest Steals over me.
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