COWS

Fenceviewer I. a cow of parts, Aggressive, competent and bold, At every milking gives twelve quarts And doesn't give a—hoot!—(don't scold!) My Kerry cow, as good as gold; Fenceviewer II.—(boss, they say) La Veau, turned three; Beans, two-year-old— These are the cows I milk each day! When Phœbus shoots his morning darts, Or wet or dry, or hot or cold, One to the dewy pasture starts With clanging pails and pants up-rolled. Again when evening doth enfold The earth and sky in twilight grey, Him at that chore you may behold— These are the cows I milk each day! Although unskilled in dairy arts I've soaked some lore by experts doled, With gentle words that win their hearts My cows from kicking I've cajoled; And of all cattle, horned or polled, Pure-bred or grade, own them who may, Mine suit me best. They'll not be sold— These are the cows I milk each day!

Prince, if you ever in the wold At milking time should chance to stray, I'll let you drink all you can hold— These are the cows I milk each day!