Page:The town down the river; a book of poems.djvu/134

 They planted once, and twice, and thrice, Like amateurs in paradise; And every spring, fond, foiled, elate, Said Oakes, "We are in tune with Fate: One season longer will suffice."

Year after year 'twas all the same: With none to envy, none to blame, They lived along in innocence, Nor ever once forgot the fence, Till on a day the Stranger came.

He came to greet them where they were, And he too was a Gardener: He stood between these gentle men, He stayed a little while, and then The land was all for Oliver.