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Hagar

The Singing Maiden, with Other Stories and Rhymes,

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DOBBIN AND I.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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 I. 
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DOBBIN AND I.

In the leafy midsummer, Dobbin and I
Set out together;
Is it cloudy or clear, blue or gray sky?
We care not for weather,
Neither Dobbin nor I.
Under the boughs, where the birds sing in chorus,
As glad as the day;
Now where butterflies hover, waiting for us
To pilot the way;
Flying all o'er us.
Into the forest, where the sweet ferns unfurl
Their banners of green;
Skirting the thickets, where the blackberry girl
Is peeping, I ween
Right onward we whirl.

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Into the shadowy ford, dash with a will;
The drops fall like rain;
But Dobbin is thirsty, and now he stands still,
And I dare not complain,
As he drinketh his fill.
We are glad as the wild birds, Dobbin and I,
The world is all ours;
The trees wave their welcome, as we pass them by,
To enter their bowers;
And ask us not why?
The ferns give their odors, as freely as they,
The little bird sings,
And asketh no fee for its loveliest lay;
And the butterflies' wings
Make golden the way.