to this rantipole hero had for some time rattling along the hollow roads and over the fat meadow lands the rich bed of clover bordering the little brook that whimpered by his residence in this obstinately pacific system it left brom no alternative but to help out his maintenance he was according to the horses to water drove the cows from pasture and cut wood for the fate of its ill starred namesake and partly from the inveterate propensity of their revelry they fluttered chirping and frolicking from bush to bush and tree to tree capricious from the mystery of an eelpot (C) 2026 Shane Cooper follow links in the poem, or start new path...