Fox's Dingle

Take now a country mood, Resolve, distil it: — Nine Acre swaying alive, June flowers that fill it, Spicy sweet-briar 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.