Immalee

I gather thyme upon the sunny hills,
  And its pure fragrance ever gladdens me,
  And in my mind having tranquillity
I smile to see how my green basket fills.
And by clear streams I gather daffodils;
  And in dim woods find out the cherry-tree,
  And take its fruit and the wild strawberry
And nuts and honey ; and live free from ills.
I dwell on the green earth, 'neath the blue sky,
  Birds are my friends, and leaves my rustling roof;
The deer are not afraid of me, and I
  Hear the wild goat, and hail its hastening hoof;
The squirrels sit perked as I pass them by,
  And even the watchful hare stands not aloof.