TAKE now a country mood, Resolve, distil it; Nine Acre swaying alive, June flowers that fill it, Spicy sweetbriar bush, The uneasy wren Fluttering from ash to birch And back again, Milkwort on its low stem, Spread hawthorn-tree, Sunlight patching the wood, A hive-bound bee, Girls riding nim-nim-nim, Ladies, trot-trot, Gentlemen hard at gallop, Shouting, steam-hot. Now over the rough turf Bridles go jingle, And there's a well-loved pool By Fox's Dingle Where, Sweetheart, my brown mare, Old Glory's daughter, May loll her leathern tongue In snow-cool water. |