"
But the people made no answer, following in their hearts the simpler
music:
For it seemed to them, noise-weary, nothing could be better worth the
hearing
Than the melodies which brought sweet order into life's confusion.
So the shepherd sang his way along, until he came unto a mountain:
And I know not surely whether the mountain was called Parnassus,
But he climbed it out of sight, and still I heard the voice of one
singing.
January, 1907.
THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH
I
BIRTHDAY VERSES, 1906
Dear Aldrich, now November's mellow days
Have brought another _Festa_ round to you,
You can't refuse a loving-cup of praise
From friends the fleeting years have bound to you.
Here come your Marjorie Daw, your dear Bad Boy,
Prudence, and Judith the Bethulian,
And many more, to wish you birthday joy,
And sunny hours, and sky cerulean!
Your children all, they hurry to your den,
With wreaths of honour they have won for you,
To merry-make your threescore years and ten.
You, old? Why, life has just begun for you!
There's many a reader whom your silver songs
And crystal stories cheer in loneliness.
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