A DAY FOR WISHING.
CANNOT mind my wheel to-
day—
The weather is as hot as
blazes:
I wish that I could get away
To anywhere you like, and play
Among the buttercups and
daisies.
I wish I had a silly book
(Most easily fulfill'd of wishes)
To read beside a crystal brook—
Or else a rod, a line, a hook,
And lots of gentles for the fishes.
I wish that I were lying, prone
And idle, where the trees are shady—
Contemplative and quite alone,
Or talking in an undertone
To some beloved and lovely lady.
But, though I feel to-day a call
For reading silly books, or fishing,
Or idling where the trees are tall,
Or making love—yet, most of all,
I wish I knew the good of wishing.