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P. 177

SAM.

                                     [Give  the  call,  <LIIo boss,"  in  the diUerent voices.]
                         A      C O U N T R Y   boy  by the  old  stone  wall.
                                 That  keeps  tlie  meadow  and  toad  apart,
                               Stands  handsome  and  manly  and  strong and  tall ;

                                 And  sturdy  is  he  as  the  maple  tree
                               That’s  by  his  side.   For  Sam  is  young
                                  And  his  honest  heart  is  as  light  and  free
                               A s  the  bird  that sings  in  the  summer  skies.
                                 Tie  looks  far  off  o'er  the  distant  hills,
                               While  a  soft  light  shines  in  hi in  hazel  eyes;
                                 And  leaning  there  by  the  meadow  wall,
                                  3He  gives  tliis  sweet,  familiar  tali :
                                       <(  My  boss  !  ho  boss !  ho  boss!


                               Now to  manhood  grown,  and  the  bells  sound  sweet
                                  A s  the  cows  come  slowly  from  out  the  w ood;
                               And  he  leaves  the  wall  and  hurries  to  meet
                                  The  mi Id-eyed  creatures,  for  they  all  know
                               Trie  h^nd  that  strokes  them  as  they pass
                                  Along the  road  where  the  daisies  grow.
                               And  each  one  stands  by tJie  eow-yard bars
                                  Seeming well  content  with  the strong  brown
                               Thai milks  them  there  ’neafch  tlie  summer stars'
                                  A nd Sam ’s  eyes  look  love  as  he sings  again
                                  The  well-remembered,  sweet  refrain,
                                       if IIo  boss !  ho boss !  ho  boss! "



                               T w as  a  day  in  June,  such  as  poets love,
                                  There  by  his  .side  a  fair  girl  stands,
                               And  the  flying  clouds  in  the  sky  above
                                  Seem  to  play  at  forfeits  with  the  .sun.
                               l.Iow  well  Sarn  knows  that a lover’s  heart
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