A playin’ round the whole long day
As happy as a lark,
An’ never out of mischief once
From daylight until dark.
With such a lot of things to hear
An’ such a lot to see,
An’ my dog Rover at my heels,
To keep me company.
A watchin’ the big sun go down
Behind the tree-tops high,
An’ wishin’ I could climb the one
That reached up to the sky.
A-listenin’ to the katydids
A-jawin’ in the lane,
An’ sniffin’ up the earthy smell
That comes before a rain.
Laughin’ to see the white-wool’d sheep
Come skippin’ down the hill,
An’ feelin’ such a heap of joy
I couldn’t quite keep still.
An’ by-an’-by, a dozin’ off,
An’ wakin’ up to hear
My mother say: “Come in the house,
’Tis past your bedtime, dear.”
A longin’ takes me on these days
When all the world gets warm,
A-longin’ just to be a boy—
A boy back on the farm.
He Meditates on the Critic
“Criticism is a tonic,
Very healthy in effect,”
Wrote he, and my verse Byronic
Did most ruthlessly reject.