y boyish spirit seems to glow,
And once more a barefoot urchin am I wandering at will
Down that little country road I used to know.
THE BULLFROG SERENADE
When the toil of day is over
And the dew is on the clover,
And the night-hawk whirls in circles overhead;
When the cow-bells melt and mingle
In a softened, silver jingle,
And the old hen calls the chickens in to bed;
When the marshy meadows glimmer
With a misty, purple shimmer,
And the twilight flush is changing into shade;
When the firefly lamps are burning
And the dusk to dark is turning,--
Then the bullfrogs chant their evening serenade:
"Deep-deep, deep-deep, deep-deep, deep-deep!
Better go 'round!_ Better go '_round!_ Better go '_round,"
First the little chaps begin it,
Raise their high-pitched voices in it,
And the shrill soprano piping sets the pace;
Then the others join the singing
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