Sweet, sweet, sweet,
  Is the wind’s song,
Astir in the rippled wheat
  All day long.
It hath the brook’s wild gayety,
The sorrowful cry of the sea.
  Oh hush and hear!
  Sweet, sweet and clear,
  Above the locust’s whirr
  And hum of bee
Rises that soft, pathetic harmony.

In the meadow-grass
  ...