Page:When we were very young.pdf/91



There is in my old picture-book A page at which I like to look, Where knights and squires come riding down The cobbles of some steep old town, And ladies from beneath the eaves Flutter their bravest handkerchiefs, Or, smiling proudly, toss down gages. . But that was in the Middle Ages. It wouldn't happen now; but still, Whenever I look up the hill Where, dark against the green and blue, The firs come marching, two by two, I wonder if perhaps I might See suddenly a shining knight Winding his way from blue to green— Exactly as it would have been Those many, many years ago



Perhaps I might. You never know.