Oh, yes, that would be lovely! I'll divide it up into characters, and make each boy learn his part--the shepherd, the Shulamite, King Solomon, and all the rest of them.

The Spring Song might even be set to music.

And then all those lovely metaphors, about the two roes that were twins, and something else that was like a heap of wheat set about with lilies.

Though, to be sure, I never could see any very striking resemblance between the objects typified and----" "Hold your tongue, do, Austin!" cried Aunt Charlotte, scandalised.
"And for mercy's sake, keep that leg of yours quiet, if you can.

You are fidgeting me out of my wits." Mr Sheepshanks, his mouth pursed up in a deprecating and uneasy smile, sat gazing vaguely in front of him.