A league, a league, a merry league
The passions that the birches read
In letters, leaves, and little breeze
That skips in merry, sighing heaves.
A breath, a beauty, and the gasp
Of winds and weathers maples clasp
In branches swaying, soft and high
Amongst the pale, intriguing sky.
Some silent hill, some mountain pass
Ringed all about with swaying grass
And pine trees playing verdant songs
Where eagles play, and hares belong.
They'd have you lost, those swinging trees
In butterflies, and basking bees
In wings of laughter, tails of leaves
And paper trails of Sun.
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