I love to walk in dripping woods
When raindrops drum on leaves,
Where sodden footsteps tell of streams
Beneath the roots of trees;
Where violets grow, and snow-white trilliums
Lift their heads in countless millions
...In spring.
I love to loll upon a bank,
And watch the puffy clouds
Shape maps and woolly forms of sheep
That melt away in shrouds;
Where brown-eyed daisies and Queen Anne's lace
Flaunt their petals in my face
...In June.
I love to tramp a dusty road
When August days are mellow,
When noontime heat in shimmering haze
Turns goldenrod to yellow;
Or hear cicadas lost in trees
Shrill their tunes in myriad keys
...In summer.
I love to tread a golden path
When aspen leaves are falling,
Or listen to the quiet dirge
Of blue jays softly calling,
Or sit upon a country fence
And breathe October's sweet incense
...In autumn.
I love to see a crystal world
All sparkling in December
When brilliant skies and frosted earth
Have blotted out November;
When every shrub and tree is dressed
In silvery lacy loveliness
...In winter.
by Sybil Beulah Maus
