The need our country has of stalwart men,
Who scorn the counter and will till the land,
Strong-handed, free of thought,—I somehow felt
The man was noble, and his simple life
More like the pattern given in the Mount
Than mine, hedged close about with city life
And grim, conventional manners.
So much, then,
For Gilbert Ripley. Not to dwell too long
Upon his doings, let me tell the tale