Would I, too, were a man like Philippe 



To mount, and lover-like, in boots and spurs, 



Rush into the great city's open arms! 



The country is a dull old-fashioned maid. 



Well enough, truly, for young wayward children, 



As is a spinster aunt to care for them. 



But when those children are grown men and women 



They will be governed by the aunt no more! 



I'm weary of these grave environing woods 



'Midst which I dwell and watch e'en wandering clouds. 



Until I yearn to wander after them. 



— J. A. Middleton. 



