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!