Whittier, appearing in 1871.
Jack-in-the-pulpit. Jack, in his pulpit, Preaches today, Under the green treed, The Puritans preached— Our fathers of old-00 Thus Jack discourses 'Neath the blue skies; As theirs—perhaps n, Penciled by Nature's hand Black, brown and green; Jack in the pulpit Preaches today, Under the green trees l, are assembled This sweet Sabbath-day To hear what Jack In his pulpit will say. See those Indian pipes, Tha; I wonder what rude sprites Have been smoking here! Jack saw the intruders' Ill manners, I guess, And gave a eir tiny pipes dropped. Now what of the sermon That Jack hath preached? Our wandering thoughts have Not that e heard the wind-organ, The bee and the bird, But of Jack in the Pulpit We heard not a word!
In 1884 the pss she is not forgotten, especially when each spring Jack preaches again in our midst.
Among the poems write appropriate here, as it seems a fitting requiem to Jack as he steps out of his pulpit.