I think I'll stretch myself upon the grass
And hear the meadow lark sing its sweet lay,
And watch the snow white clouds that slowly
I'm hungry for the songs that Nature sings
When grass is green and foliage is deep,
And birdlings in the branches rock and swing,
And everything invites a restful sleep.
Away the cares. And come sweet dreams to me.
I've reached the goal that man so long has sought,
A glimpse of Heaven and a heart care free
I've found here in this quiet homelike spot.
(Boston: The Gorham Press. 1914)