A Game of Lawn Tennis

What wonder that I should be dreaming
Out here in the garden to-day?
The light through the leaves is streaming,--
Paulina cries, “Play!”

The birds to each other are calling,
The freshly-cut grasses smell sweet;
To Teddy’s dismay, comes falling
The ball at my feet.

“Your stroke should be over, not under!”
“But that’s such a difficult way!”
The place is a springtide wonder
Of lilac and may;

Of lilac, and may, and laburnum,
Of blossom,--We’er losing the set!
“Those volleys of Jenny’s,--return them;
“Stand close to the net!”

* * * * *

You are so fond of the Maytime,
My friend, far away;
Small wonder that I should be dreaming
Of you in the garden to-day.