THE SCHOOLMASTER

O what harper could worthily harp it,

Mine Edward! this wide-stretching wold

( Look out wold ) with its wonderful carpet

Of emerald, purple, and gold!

Look well at it — also look sharp, it

Is getting so cold.

The purple is heather ( erica );

The yellow, gorse — call'd sometimes “whin.”

Cruel boys on its prickles might spike a

Green beetle as if on a pin.

You may roll in it, if you would like a

Few holes in your skin.

You would n't? Then think of how kind you

Should be to the insects who crave

Your compassion — and then, look behind you

At you barley-ears! Do n't they look brave

As they undulate — ( undulate, mind you,

From unda, a wave ).

The noise of those sheep-bells, how faint it

Sounds here — ( on account of our height )!

And this hillock itself — who could paint it,

With its changes of shadow and light?

Is it not — ( never, Eddy, say “ai n't it” ) -

A marvellous sight?

Then yon desolate eerie morasses,

The haunts of the snipe and the hern -

( I shall question the two upper classes

On aquatiles, when we return ) -

Why, I see on them absolute masses

Of filix or fern.

How it interests e'en a beginner

( Or tiro ) like dear little Ned!

Is he listening? As I am a sinner

He's asleep — he is wagging his head.

Wake up! I'll go home to my dinner,

And you to your bed.

The boundless ineffable prairie;

The splendour of mountain and lake

With their hues that seem ever to vary;

The mighty pine-forests which shake

In the wind, and in which the unwary

May tread on a snake;

And this wold with its heathery garment -

Are themes undeniably great.

But — although there is not any harm i n't -

It's perhaps little good to dilate

On their charms to a dull little varmint

Of seven or eight.