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, Bred That Fierce Tooth And Cleanly Limb And Threw Him Up To Laugh On The Bough; No Government Appointed Him.