Far up the brook, beyond the lin...

Far up the brook, beyond the lin,

I hear the impatient bluejay's din,

While in the browning beech, nut-laden,

The chipmunk gathers his harvest in.

( Of all earth's trees exceeding fair,

Thee have I loved beyond compare,

Most human beech! and felt thy spirit

Tremble to mine in the dusky air. )

The year is rounding up its task,

And kingly gives to all that ask;

Ay, soon‘ twill move in pomp so royal

The world shall seem, but a heavenly mask!