"Now, this is delightful.

I am so glad you came.

I received this book last week, and although I have been in the Netherlands, I cannot speak or read Dutch.

I wonder whether you would read a poem to me and let me hear how it sounds." So Edward took "The Old Clock on the Stairs," and read it to him.
The poet's face beamed with delight.

"That's beautiful," he said, and then quickly added: "I mean the language, not the poem." "Now," he went on, "I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll strike a bargain.