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 | An idyl of work |  |
“Dear Nephew Ralph, it often seems to me
As if we should change places. 'T is not fair
That you should toil in the metropolis
At stifling office-work, at my affairs
More than your own, I fear, while I enjoy
Perpetual leisure, drinking peace and health
Out of the mountain chalices. For you
'T is hard, who Nature as a mother love,
As you do me, your old, romantic aunt,
Whose heart remains a girl's in loving you,
Her squire and champion. We'll let business go,
While I write of these hills, at your desire,—
The friendly hills, that, while I am away
From all I love, must take the place of friends.
As if we should change places. 'T is not fair
That you should toil in the metropolis
At stifling office-work, at my affairs
More than your own, I fear, while I enjoy
Perpetual leisure, drinking peace and health
109
'T is hard, who Nature as a mother love,
As you do me, your old, romantic aunt,
Whose heart remains a girl's in loving you,
Her squire and champion. We'll let business go,
While I write of these hills, at your desire,—
The friendly hills, that, while I am away
From all I love, must take the place of friends.
| An idyl of work | |