"Oh, this is weather for play, for play!
And I will not go to school to-day,"
Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.


So he hung his satchel upon a tree:
And over the hills to the pond went he,
To frolic, and see what he could see.


He met a boy on the way to school,
And said, "Ned Foster, you're a fool
To study and plod because it's the rule."


Quoth Ned, "You'll find that he's the fool
Who, for his pleasure, shirks his school:
Sun, moon, and stars, all go by rule."


Then Ned passed cheerily on his way,
And not another word did say
To Master Frederic Philip Fay.


Fred sat him down on a rock near by,
And cast a look on the bright blue sky,
And then at the sun, that was mounting high.


"Yes, truly, the sun has no time for play:
He has to go in a certain way,"
Said Master Frederic Philip Fay.


"Oh! what would become of us all, suppose
The sun, some morn, should say, as he rose,
'A truant I'll be to-day—here goes!'


"Then off should whirl in a mad career,
And leave it all night and winter here,—
No blue in the sky, no flower to cheer?