And the glorious spirit of mirth.
For ’twas not we were reckless of duty,
Or the sterner requirements of life;
’Twas not we were mindless of beauty,
Or are now, of home, children, and wife;
But ’tis,—that the wandering hours
Have a singular frolicsome way
Of scattering the fairest of flowers
O’er moments of fellowship gay;
When fancy leads off to a measure