THAT SPRINGING FROM THE DEWY GRASS HUNG ALOFT ON QUIVERING WINGS IN THE YELLOW SUNLIGHT POURING FORTH ITS SONG THAT FELL LIKE A FALLING STAR FROM THE SKY HIS LUCK LED HIM AWAY FROM THE HIGHWAY NOT FAR FROM THE SPOT WHERE ARTHUR A BLAND WAS PEEPING THIS WAY AND THAT THROUGH THE LEAVES OF THE THICKETS