Wood-Harvest
Yellowbird and Oriole wing to southern shores;
All the little foresters glean their winter stores.
Frost unlocks the chestnut burr, ripes the chinkapin,
All the little foresters get their harvest in.
Chipmunk in the hazel-grove crams his pouches full;
Deermouse finds the alder fruit ripe enough to pull;
Butternut and hickory please the Squirrel well;
Apples of the wilderness fill the Woodchuck's cell.
Frisking on the mountainside, rustling down the comb,
All the little foresters hold their Harvest Home.
All the little foresters glean their winter stores.
Frost unlocks the chestnut burr, ripes the chinkapin,
All the little foresters get their harvest in.
Chipmunk in the hazel-grove crams his pouches full;
Deermouse finds the alder fruit ripe enough to pull;
Butternut and hickory please the Squirrel well;
Apples of the wilderness fill the Woodchuck's cell.
Frisking on the mountainside, rustling down the comb,
All the little foresters hold their Harvest Home.
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