ON the cheerful village green, <br />Skirted round with houses small, <br />All the boys and girls are seen, <br />Playing there with hoop and ball. <br /> <br />Now they frolic hand in hand, <br />Making many a merry chain; <br />Then they form a warlike band, <br />Marching o'er the level plain. <br /> <br />Now ascends the worsted ball, <br />High it rises in the air, <br />Or against the cottage wall, <br />Up and down it bounces there. <br /> <br />Then the hoop, with even pace, <br />Runs before the merry throngs; <br />Joy is seen in every face, <br />Joy is heard in cheerful songs. <br /> <br />Rich array, and mansions proud, <br />Gilded toys, and costly fare, <br />Would not make the little crowd <br />Half so happy as they are. <br /> <br />Then, contented with my state, <br />Where true pleasure may be seen, <br />Let me envy not the great, <br />On a cheerful village green.<br /><br />Ann Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-village-green-2/
