It seems to me I’d like to go
Where bells don’t ring, nor whistles blow,
Nor clocks don’t strike, nor gongs don’t sound
And I’d have stillness all around.

Not real stillness, but just the trees’
Low whispering, or the hum of bees.
Or brooks faint babbling over stones
In strangely, softly tender tones.

Or maybe a critter or katydid,
Or the songs of birds in the hedges hid.
Or just some sweet sound of these
To fill a tired heart with ease.

If it weren’t for sight and sound and smell
I’d like the city pretty well,
But when it comes to getting rest
I like the wild wood lots the best.

Sometimes it seems to me I must
Just quit the city din and dusk,
And get out where the sky is blue–
And say, how does it seem to you?
-Author Unkown

Published in the The Pennsylvania Game News, May of 1943 (pg 30) retrieved via Pennsylvania State Library