AN APPOINTMENT
 
 BEING out of heart with government
 I took a broken root to fling
 Where the proud, wayward squirrel went,
 Taking delight that he could spring;
 And he, with that low whinnying sound
 That is like laughter, sprang again
 And so to the other tree at a bound.
 Nor the tame will, nor timid brain,
 Nor heavy knitting of the brow
 Bred that fierce tooth and cleanly limb
 And threw him up to laugh on the bough;
 No govermnent appointed him.