Written In Bunner'S "Airs From Arcady"

O ever gracious Airs from Arcady! What lack is there of any jocund thing In glancing wit or glad imagining Capricious fancy may not find in thee?-- The laugh of Momus, tempered daintily To lull the ear and lure its listening; The whistled syllables the birds of spring Flaunt ever at our guessings what they be; The wood, the seashore, and the clanging town; The pets of fashion, and the ways of such; The robe de chambre, and the russet gown; The lordling's carriage, and the pilgrim's crutch-- From hale old Chaucer's wholesomeness, clean down To our artistic Dobson's deftest touch!