Robert Graves Poems >>
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.