Page:The town down the river; a book of poems.djvu/112

 Miniver sighed for what was not,
 * And dreamed, and rested from his labors;

He dreamed of Thebes and Camelot,
 * And Priam's neighbors.

Miniver mourned the ripe renown
 * That made so many a name so fragrant;

He mourned Romance, now on the town,
 * And Art, a vagrant.

Miniver loved the Medici,
 * Albeit he had never seen one;

He would have sinned incessantly
 * Could he have been one.

Miniver cursed the commonplace
 * And eyed a khaki suit with loathing;

He missed the mediæval grace
 * Of iron clothing.