To
MARGARET ILLINGTON BOWES
AND
EDWARD J. BOWES
|
I
I’d rather walk with Margaret, I’d rather talk with Margaret, And anchor in some sylvan nook And fish Dream Lake with magic hook Than sit indoors and write this book. II An author’s such an ass, alas! To watch the world through window glass When out of doors the skies are fair And pretty girls beyond compare–– Like Margaret––are strolling there. III I’d rather walk with E. J. Bowes, I’d rather talk with E. J. Bowes, In woodlands where the sunlight gleams Across the golden Lake of Dreams Than drive a quill across these reams. IV If I could have my proper wish With these two friends I’d sit and fish Where sheer cliffs wear their mossy hoods And Dream Lake widens in the woods, But Fate says “No! Produce your goods!” ENVOI Inspect my goods and choose a few Dear Margaret, and Edward, too; Then sink them in the Lake of Dreams In dim, gold depths where sunshine streams Down from the sky’s unclouded blue, And I’ll be much obliged to you. R. W. C. |