I.
A man would build a house, and found a place
As fair as any on the earth’s fair face:
Soft hills, dark woods, smooth meadows richly green,
And cool tree-shaded lakes the hills between.
He built his house within this pleasant land,
A stately white-porched house, long years to stand;
But, rising from his paradise so fair,
Came fever in the night and killed him there.
“O lovely land!” he cried, “how could I know