The Cow-Boy

Day after day, when the tawny-bills Were twittering through the boughs, “Sook! sook!” across the sunset hills He would call his mother’s cows.

“Whee! whee!” and then the thrum and fall Of the clumsy meadow-bar, And we knew he had found them one and all, “Mottle,” and “Rose,” and “Star.”

A merry cry, and then a hush, And then a merrier ring,— He had found a bird’s-nest in a bush, And was happier than a king.

“Plash and plash!” and “Sook, sook!” And tramp and trill again,— He had brought his cows across the brook, And was singing up the lane.

Spingspang! whish! in the bucket cool And burnished silver-bright, And then he had gotten his milking-stool, And was milking with all his might.

Clump! clatter! spinkle! span! He had done with the milking-chore, And was setting each shining and shallow pan On the watery “spring-house” floor.

Days went and came, and came and went, And over the sunset hills No more his cheerful call was blent With the twittering tawny-bills.

But in the dingle and in the dell Deep silence held the rule; The little lad that we loved so well Was gone to the grammar-school.

Years came and went, and went and came; He had made, or mastered fate, For the little cow-boy’s humble name Was the name that ruled the state.