One beautiful spring morning. The rising sun looked down
And saw us slowly jogging and drinking in the balm
Of honeyed breath of clover fields. We lissed, in Nature’s calm,
To chirping squirrel, and whistling bird, the robin and the wren;
The sound of life and love and peace came o’er the fields again.
’Way back behind the wagon there came a tandem bike,
A pedaling ’long to beat the wind, I never saw the like.
They started by—the road was wide, old Dobbin feeling good,
The quiet calmness of the morn had livened up his mood,
And stretching out adown the road he chased these cyclers two,