Classic Poem

In summer time, I took my road
From stile to stile, from ground to ground,
The while the cloudless sunshine glowed
On down and mead, by sun-heat browned,
Where slowly round a wide-bent bow
The stream wound on, with water low,
In hopeful hours, that glided on,
With me in happiness now gone.

And there below the elm-tree shroud,
Where shaded air might cooler swim,
There lay a quickly-panting crowd
Of sheep, within the shadow's rim,
That glided slowly, on and on,
Till there they lay, with shadow gone.
And oh! that happy hours should glide
Away so soon, with time and tide.