A Child's Garden of Verses (1885)
by
Robert Louis Stevenson

The Hayloft

Through all the pleasant meadow-side

The grass grew shoulder-high,
Till the shining scythes went far and wide
And cut it down to dry.

Those green and sweetly smelling crops

They led the waggons home;
And they piled them here in mountain tops
For mountaineers to roam.

Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail,

Mount Eagle and Mount High;--
The mice that in these mountains dwell,
No happier are than I!

Oh, what a joy to clamber there,

Oh, what a place for play,
With the sweet, the dim, the dusty air,
The happy hills of hay!

Public domain text taken from The Poets’ Corner:
http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/rls02.html#1


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