The Chap-book; semi-monthly . ERN SUBURB ATURE selects the longest way. And winds about in tortuous grooves:A thousand years the oaks decay;The wrinkled glacier hardly moves. But here the whetted fangs of change Daily devour the old busy farm, the quiet grange. The wayside inn, the village green. In gaudy yellow brick and red. With rooting pipes, like creepers rank. The shoddy terraces oerspread Meadow and garth and daisied bank. With shelves for rooms the houses draughty cupboards in a row: Ice-chests, when wintry winds are loud;Ovens, when summer breezes blow. Roused b
The Chap-book; semi-monthly . ERN SUBURB ATURE selects the longest way. And winds about in tortuous grooves:A thousand years the oaks decay;The wrinkled glacier hardly moves. But here the whetted fangs of change Daily devour the old busy farm, the quiet grange. The wayside inn, the village green. In gaudy yellow brick and red. With rooting pipes, like creepers rank. The shoddy terraces oerspread Meadow and garth and daisied bank. With shelves for rooms the houses draughty cupboards in a row: Ice-chests, when wintry winds are loud;Ovens, when summer breezes blow. Roused by the feed policemans sad that day should come again. Under the stars the workmen flockIn haste to reach the workmens train: For here dwell those who must fulfilDull tasks in uncongenial spheres. Who toil through dread of coming not with hope of happier years — The lowly folk who scarcely dare Conceive themselves perhaps misplaced. Whose prize for unremitting careIs only not to be disgraced. John
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidchapbooksemi, bookyear1894
