I liked to bear in mind that men less free
Must toil and tramp, whilst I was just commencing
To court the Muses, foolscap on my knee,
Helped by the sweet bird in the shade-dispensing
Something-or-other tree.
I wrote: "Ah, who would be where rough men jostle
In dust and grime, like porkers at a trough.
When, here is May and May-time's blest apostle——"
Just then, without preliminary cough,
Suddenly, ere I knew, the actual throstle,