Alabama, 191 5. 21 



VACATION TIME 



ALL THE world is set in rhyme, 

 Now it is vacation time, 

 And a swelling flood of joy 

 Brims the heart of every boy; 

 No more rote and no more rule, 

 No more staying after school ; 

 Nothing but to play and play 

 Through an endless holiday. 



Morn or afternoon, may all 

 Swing the bat and catch the ball ; 

 Nimble-footed, race and run 

 Through the meadows in the sun. 

 Chasing winged scraps of light, 

 Butterflies in daring flight; 

 Or where the willows lean and look 

 Down at others in the brook; 

 Frolic loud the stream within, 

 Every arm a splashing fin. 



Where the thorny thicket bar, 

 There the sweetest berries are; 

 Where the shady banks make dim 

 Pebbly pools, the shy trout swim ; 

 Where the boughs are mossiest, 

 Builds the humming bird a nest; — 

 There are haunts the rover seeks, 

 Touch of tan upon his cheeks, 

 And within his heart the joy 

 Known to no one but a boy. 



All the world is set to rhyme. 

 Now it is vacation time. 



