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.
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