ONCE, at the Agricultural Show, We tasted -- all so yellow -- Those butter-pats, cool and mellow! Each taste I still remember, though It was so long ago. This spoke of the grass of Netherhay, And this of Kingcomb Hill, And this of Coker Rill: Which was the prime I could not say Of all those tried that day, Till she, the fair and wicked-eyed, Held out a pat to me: Then felt I all Yeo-Lea Was by her sample sheer outvied; And, "This is the best," I cried. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 3 by LUCY AIKEN EPITAPH ON SUSANNAH BARBAULD MARISSAL by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD IDYLL 1. THE EPITAPH OF ADONIS by BION ON THE BATTLE OF SHERIFFMUIR by ROBERT BURNS A NURSERY SONG by ANN AUGUSTA GRAY CARTER |