The Forest Cotillion

When the wind is joyous-hearted it stirs the graceful spruces,

And they nod at one another and toss their arms in abandon;

Then they sway their supple bodies in wonderful undulations,

Keeping a perfect time with the wind's mysterious music.

Then the watchmen of the forest, the solemn and silent birches,

Bend stiffly their stately heads, saluting their laughing sisters;

And the alders wake from slumber, and the willows grieve no longer

When the wild wind woos the stream and sets the trees a-dancing.