The deadnin' and the thicket's jes' a b'ilin' full o' June,
From the rattle o' the cricket, to the yaller-hammer's tune;
And the catbird in the bottom and the sap-suck on the
snag,
Seems's ef they cain't—od-rot-'em!—jes' do nothin' else
but brag!
There' music in the twitter o' the bluebird and the jay,
And that sassy little critter jes' a-peckin' all the day;
There' music in the "flicker," and there' music in the
thrush,
And there' music in the snicker o' the chipmunk in the
brush!—
There' music all around me!—And I go back—in a dream
Sweeter yit than ever found me fast asleep:—And, in the
stream
That used to split the medder wher' the dandylions
growed,
I stand knee-deep, and redder than the sunset down the
road.
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