MY RETREAT

To my retreat now come with me, And love the place that’s wild and free, Where Chipmunks play and Wood Thrush sings; Where a lucid lake invites and brings The proud offspring of Liberty. The Wren is there, the Chickadee, And many more that come in glee, On nimble feet or shining wings, To my retreat— The birds of sky and fish of the sea, The cunning things that charming be; And there the Cardinal often rings His notes of joy to songster-lings— All these and I have bidden thee To my retreat.