HUT V. HOTEL
I LOVE the birds that swell
Their songs of divers flutes ;
But I hate the new hotel
And all its civilised brutes.
I love the streams that pour
With loud melodious throat ;
But I hate the ill-bred roar
Of the evening table d’héte.
I love the mountains proud
That throng on their thrones of snow;
But I hate the snobbish crowd
That throng in the hole below.
I love in the hut to dwell,
With its maze of mountain routes ;
But I hate the new hotel,
And all its civilised brutes.
49