p. 102

Below in the village a church bell was chiming, And back in the woodland a little bird sang; And, doubt it who will, yet those two sounds were rhyming, As out o’er the hill-tops they echoed and rang.

The Wind and the Trees fell to talking together; And nothing they said was didactic or terse; But everything spoken was told in unbroken And beautiful rhyming and rhythmical verse.

So rhythm I hail it, though critics assail it, And hold melting rhymes as an insult to art, For oh! the sweet swing of it, oh! the dear ring of it, Oh! the strong pulse of it, right from the heart, Art or no art.

p. 103ALL IN A COACH AND FOUR

p. 103

The quality folk went riding by, All in a coach and four, And pretty Annette, in a calico gown (Bringing her marketing things from town), Stopped short with her Sunday store, And wondered if ever it should betide That she in a long plumed hat would ride Away in a coach and four.

A lord there was, oh a lonely soul, There in the coach and four. His years were young but his heart was old, And he hated his coaches and hated his gold (Those things which we all adore). And he thought how sweet it would be to trudge Along with the fair little country drudge, And away from his coach and four.

p. 104So back he rode the very next day All in his coach and four, And he went each day whether dry or wet, Until he married the sweet Annette (In spite of her lack of lore). But they didn’t trudge off on foot together, For he bought her a hat with a long, long feather, And they rode in the coach and four.

p. 104

Now a thing like this could happen we know, All in a coach and four; But the fact of it is, ’twixt me and you, There isn’t a word of the story true (Pardon I do implore). It is only a foolish and fanciful song That came to me as I rode along, All in a coach and four.

p. 105SONGS OF A COUNTRY HOME

p. 105

I

Who has not felt his heart leap up, and glow What time the Tulips first begin to blow, Has one sweet joy still left for him to know.

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