 | Ernest |  |
A small spring
Betrayed by the green life surrounding it,
Had slaked of yore the thirst of many a knight
That held the fortress—now it nursed the copse
And brambles, that o'ergrew trenches, mounds, slopes,
And harboured the shy hare: 'mid primroses
And cowslips, blending spring and summer in one,
With the soft sweet suffusion of their hues
And their breath's melting fragrance. There they met,
Sweet trysting place: they and a fellowship
Of true like-minded friends from far and near:
Good cheer and luck and gladness to them all.
Betrayed by the green life surrounding it,
Had slaked of yore the thirst of many a knight
That held the fortress—now it nursed the copse
And brambles, that o'ergrew trenches, mounds, slopes,
And harboured the shy hare: 'mid primroses
And cowslips, blending spring and summer in one,
With the soft sweet suffusion of their hues
And their breath's melting fragrance. There they met,
Sweet trysting place: they and a fellowship
Of true like-minded friends from far and near:
Good cheer and luck and gladness to them all.
| Ernest | |