We took a ramble, looked at stores

Of hay and corn-a pleasant sight, We passed the morning out of doors And came in with an appetite.

How tranquil Johnson's daily course!
Of crops how learnedly he talks !

(I wonder where he bought that horse?) We have good rides, or famous walksOf country air he gets his fill,

And what a breather up that hill!

To him no anxious times, no care,

Nothing to take him unaware,

Nothing to vex him or to worry,

No eager dread, no fear, no flurry!

A country life's the life to live,
And country air the air to give

Muscle and bone!

Our fathers may have thought of this!—

The country would not be amiss

Ere Town was known!

If our whole island were a town,

Old England's glory would come down,

For pluck and strength

Want early hours, and wholesome air,

And simple, good, substantial fare,

Or fail at length !

I find it getting rather slow,—

I thought it would be when I came ! Town has so much that's fresh to show, But here 'tis day by day the same!

Well, it is wonderful and strange

In country life, what people see!

I cannot do without a change,

The City is the place for me.

Now, as you walk along a street
There's always something new to meet;

But here it is so blank and tame,

The wood, the river-just the same!

The same high hills, the same low meads!

A shift of wind becomes a boon.

Yet Johnson likes the life he leads!
'Twould settle me-and pretty soon!

But here to find some change one tries'Tis hot or cold, or dry or wet;

And in the morn the sun must rise,
And in the evening he must set;

And if he sets in glorious hues

Fair weather we may hope to see,

And this, alas! is all the news

If news it is-that reaches me!

One never knows the time of day,

Or where to go, or what to do,

The hours pass wearily away

Which early train will take me 'through'

Ah, I have seen sweet Rosa Bell!

And now I know

What charmed me so,

What forms her witchery,-her spell!

'Tis not the dazzling pink and white,

Nor sparkling eyes, nor golden hair ;

And though a merry, dancing sprite,

Kittens would meet and beat her there!

But she is very fair to view

Like Mother Eve when worlds were new

Fair by the light of inner grace

Reflected in her changeful face;

The heaven within her upraised eye,

The sudden look of sweet surprise

To master that which passes by,

And all the love that dormant lies; For she is but an opening flower!

She's on the threshold of her life!