DEAR, winding glens of Merle Wood! deep in flowers,
That speak the mood of peaceful, patient hours,
When human tenderness for nature's way
Coaxed her to richer sweetness day by day,
When gentle craft of philosophic mind
Luring forth beauty that it longed to find,
Here led leaf-tracery where rock was bare,
And helped a flower to light the shadow there;
Won from the woodland willingness new love,
And taught the grace of growing where to move.

Dear glades of Merle Wood! rich with clustered songs
Of little birds made welcome! healing trance
Visits my restlessness among you; wrongs
Vanish as spectres in the tolerance
Of nature's placid patience. Let me rest
Awhile 'mid proofs of lawful labour blest:

These cool green haunts shut out life's weary dust,
And chide despondency: for lo! a trust,
Hidden yet perfect, where the calm thought bends
A bough to meet a future not yet seen,
Or buries seed where wilderness has been.
And honoured law in spring fruition lends
To bless the strong, sweet will whose means are nature's ends.