Classic Poem

Laughter wears a lilied gown —
She is but a simple thing;
Laughter's eyes are water-brown,
Ever glancing up and down
Like a woodbird's restless wing.

Laughter slender is and round —
She is but a simple thing;
And her tresses fly unbound,
And about her brow are found
Buds that blossom by Mirth's spring.

Laughter loves to praise and play —
She is but a simple thing —
With the children small who stray
Under hedges, where the May
Scents and blossoms richly fling.

Laughter coyly peeps and flits —
She is but a simple thing —
Round the flower-clad door, where sits
Maid who dimples as she knits,
Dreaming in the rosy spring.

Laughter hath light-tripping feet —
She is but a simple thing;
Ye may often Laughter meet
In the hayfield, gilt and sweet,
Where the mowers jest and sing.

Laughter shakes the bounteous leaves —
She is but a simple thing —
On the village ale-house eaves,
While the angered swallow grieves
And the rustic revellers sing.

Laughter never comes a-nigh —
She's a wise though simple thing —
Where men lay them down to die;
Nor will under stormy sky
Laughter's airy music ring.