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Poem	WHEN Watkin shifts the burden of his cares And all that irked him in his bound employ Once more become a vagrom-hearted boy He moves to roundelays and jocund airs; Loitering with dusty harvestmen he shares 5 Old ale and sunshine; or with maids half-coy Pays court to shadows; fools himself with joy Shaking a leg at junketings and fairs. Sometimes returning down his breezy miles A snatch of wayward April he will bring 10 Piping the daffodilly that beguiles Foolhardy lovers in the surge of spring. And then once more by lanes and field-path stiles Up the green world he wanders like a king.
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