Page:The town down the river; a book of poems.djvu/131

 "But this is not the soil, you know," Said Oliver, "to make them grow: The parent of us, who is dead, Compassionately shook his head Once on a time and told me so."

"I hear you, gentle Oliver," Said Oakes, "and in your character I find as fair a thing indeed As ever bloomed and ran to seed Since Adam was a gardener.

"Still, whatsoever I find there, Forgive me if I do not share The knowing gloom that you take on Of one who doubted and is done: For chemistry meets every prayer."