Page:The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima Edition, Volume 8, 1922.djvu/566

NEW POEMS The Birds among the Bushes

May wanton on the spray;

But vain for him who tushes

The brightness of the day!

The frog among the rushes

Sits singing in the blue.

By 'r la'kin! but these tushes

Are wearisome to do!

The task entirely crushes

The spirit of the bard:

God pity him who tushes—

His task is very hard.

The filthy gutter slushes,

The clouds are full of rain,

But doomed is he who tushes

To tush and tush again.

At morn with his hair-brushes,

Still "tush" he says, and weeps,

At night again he tushes,

And tushes till he sleeps.

And when at length he pushes

Beyond the river dark—

'Las, to the man who tushes,

"Tush" shall be God's remark! 552