A Boy's Summer Song

From Immortal Poetry
Jump to: navigation, search

‘T is fine to play
In the fragrant hay,
And romp on the golden load;
To ride old Jack
To the barn and back,
Or tramp by a shady road.
To pause and drink,
At a mossy brink;
Ah, that is the best of joy,
And so I say
On summer’s day,
What’s so fine as being a boy? Ha, Ha!

With line and hook
By a babbling brook,
The fisherman’s sport we ply;
And list the song
Of the feathered throng
That flit in the branches nigh.
At last we strip
For a quiet dip;
Ah, that is the best of joy.
For this I say
On a summer’s day,
What’s so fine as being a boy? Ha, Ha!

Personal tools
Categories
topics
poems by decade
seasons
users
Languages

Print
Printer friendly version

IPv6

Search:

Poetry index | Random poem | Author index | Norwegian version | Swedish version