Richard Watson Gilder

Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day,
And Jamie's after robins, and the man is read more

Oh, father's gone to market-town, he was up before the day,
And Jamie's after robins, and the man is making hay,
And whistling down the hollow goes the boy that minds the mill,
While mother from the kitchen door is calling with a will,
"Polly!--Polly!--The cows are in the corn!
Oh, where's Polly?"

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That read more

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!

We lean on Faith; and some less wise have cried,
"Behold the butterfly, the see that's cast!"
read more

We lean on Faith; and some less wise have cried,
"Behold the butterfly, the see that's cast!"
Vain hopes that fall like flowers before the blast!
What man can look on Death unterrified?

Against the darkness outer
God's light his likeness takes,
And he from the mighty doubter
read more

Against the darkness outer
God's light his likeness takes,
And he from the mighty doubter
The great believer makes.