Across the flooring rough and gray
The gold of scattered chaff was spread,
And long festoons of clover hay
That straggled from the loft o’erhead,
Swung scented fringes to and fro
O’er pretty girls in calico.
They used to go a-Maying then,
The blossoms of the spring to seek
In sunny glade and sheltered glen,
Unweighed by fashion’s latest freak;