Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.”
Ruth joined at the last line.
“I never can remember the other verse,” she said, as Rose too fell silent. “It is always the first verse that’s easy, isn’t it?”
And then began the airiest, fairiest singing ever a child listened to. Have you ever seen the spiderwebs stretched across the grass-blades in the early morning, all ashine with tiniest dew-drops? Well, if they were turned into music, they would probably sound like the singing Rose and Ruth heard:
“Who doth ambition shun
And loves to live i’ the sun,
Seeking the food he eats
And pleased with what he gets—