1.
Travel through the woods on a summer's day,
Worries of daily chores dream endlessly away.
Captive not, are we from natures luscious breast
Soak within Apollo's warm oval'd gleamin' crest.
Captive not, as mother earth, weaves her sorcery spell,
Whistle with the wind to hear where hedge-sparrows dwell.
The passion'd view before my eyes, I restrain from weep,
For court'd law, Satan'd, bathes us in shrouded deceit.

2.
Draw the air sacred belongs to every breath,
Lack there of faith, time, now, life and death.
Makes a-wonderin' in the wood on a summers day,
Bring Milton's sirens; sing their note to the authors sway.
Five senses, being, soul, was gave human-kind,
The Zephyr bids the breeze to flutter the leaf, forces blind.
Let the trees reach high, those clouds few crawlin' slow over blue sky,
Gaze upward from a-new clearing I found, now where I lie.

3.
The song I sing you from the lazy day of today,
Brings forth illuminous colours from this wood in sunny May,
To show us all the mundane lack of our own lives,
Livin' the pressur'd tasks of Henrys forsaken already wives.
To stress surely not, about obvious waste of things,
Can't you see Constables paintings of what nature brings?
The absolute amazement, of how everyday hits our eye,
To leave an imprint, however deep, as stars roll by.

4.
Humming the tunes of Virgil, Dante, Chaucer and Keats,
Washing your bliss with the strums of nature's beats.
Scrubbin' this modern life's hectic ebb and flow;
Where's the wonderment gone from this wood'd meadow grow.
Simple treats of sweets greet our presence every time,
We open our thoughts, our minds, and enter into sublime.
Stories are told, heard, forgotten, written down;
For so this earths beauty be not dismiss'd, for worth of a crown.