There grows the four-leaved plant, “true-love,"

In some dusk woodland spot;

There grows the enchanter's night-shade,

And the wood forget-me-not.

And many a merry bird is there,
Unscared by, lawless men,-

The blue-wing'd jay, the woodpecker,
And the golden-crested wren.

Come down, and ye shall see them all,

The timid and the bold;

For their sweet life of pleasantness,
It is not to be told.