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Alfred Noyes - Touchstone On A BusAlfred Noyes - Touchstone On A Bus
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Last night I rode with Touchstone on a bus From Ludgate Hill to World`s End. It was he! Despite the broadcloth and the bowler hat, I knew him, Touchstone, the wild flower of folly, The whetstone of his age, the scourge of kings, The madcap morning star of elfin-land, Who used to wrap his legs around his neck For warmth on winter nights. He had slipped back, To see what men were doing in a world That should be wiser. He had watched a play, Read several books, heard men discourse of art And life; and he sat bubbling like a spring In Arden. Never did blackbird, drenched with may, Chuckle as Touchstone chuckled on that ride. _Lord, what a world! Lord, what a mad, mad world!_ Then, to the jolt and jingle of the engine, He burst into this bunch of madcap rhymes:--
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