Wild Garden

by Bliss Carman




When June is come and the cool deep woods
Ring with the thrush and the oven-bird,
A madness springs in the heart of earth
Hearing the music creation heard.

So clear the magical wild notes fall,


Who could bide with a book indoor,
And not away through the wide sweet world,
On the sway of that old Pandean lore!

I know in my heart ’tis time to go
On the Twilight Trail with its tawny kills,

Where thrushes call to the frail new moon
In far blue passes among the hills.