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An Appointment
| Being out of heart with government | | I took a broken root to fling | | Where the proud, wayward squirrel went, | | Taking delight that he could spring; | | And he, with that low whinnying sound | | That is like laughter, sprang
again | | And so to the other tree at a bound. | | Nor the tame will, nor timid brain, | | Nor heavy knitting of the
brow | | Bred that fierce tooth and cleanly limb | | And threw him up to laugh on the bough; | | No government
appointed him. |
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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