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Archibalds Example

 Old Archibald, in his eternal chair,
Where trespassers, whatever their degree, 
Were soon frowned out again, was looking off 
Across the clover when he said to me: 

“My green hill yonder, where the sun goes down
Without a scratch, was once inhabited 
By trees that injured him—an evil trash 
That made a cage, and held him while he bled.
“Gone fifty years, I see them as they were Before they fell.
They were a crooked lot To spoil my sunset, and I saw no time In fifty years for crooked things to rot.
“Trees, yes; but not a service or a joy To God or man, for they were thieves of light.
So down they came.
Nature and I looked on, And we were glad when they were out of sight.
“Trees are like men, sometimes; and that being so, So much for that.
” He twinkled in his chair, And looked across the clover to the place That he remembered when the trees were there.

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