Written in Bunner's "Airs from Arcady"

O ever gracious Airs from Arcady!
What lack is there of any jocund thing
In glancing wit or glad imagining
Capricious fancy may not find in thee?--
The laugh of Momus, tempered daintily
To lull the ear and lure its listening;
The whistled syllables the birds of spring
Flaunt ever at our guessings what they be;
The wood, the seashore, and the clanging town;
The pets of fashion, and the ways of such;
The robe de chambre, and the russet gown;
The lordling's carriage, and the pilgrim's crutch--
From hale old Chaucer's wholesomeness, clean down
To our artistic Dobson's deftest touch!