A DAY FOR WISHING.

CANNOT mind my wheel to-

day—

The weather is as hot as

blazes:

I wish that I could get away

To anywhere you like, and play

Among the buttercups and

daisies.

I wish I had a silly book

(Most easily fulfill'd of wishes)

To read beside a crystal brook—

Or else a rod, a line, a hook,

And lots of gentles for the fishes.

I wish that I were lying, prone

And idle, where the trees are shady—

Contemplative and quite alone,

Or talking in an undertone

To some beloved and lovely lady.

But, though I feel to-day a call

For reading silly books, or fishing,

Or idling where the trees are tall,

Or making love—yet, most of all,

I wish I knew the good of wishing.