 | Verse in bloom |  |
121
HUNTING
The girl in blossom, the autumnal maid,
The woman with the feeble knot of hair,
The bankrupt (and behind his saddle Care),
The Hawk, the tattered Birds on whom he preyed,
The clean-heart youngster, the devouring jade,
The penny-wise and frozen millionaire,
The parson and the publican, were there,
To make a fox in Leicestershire afraid.
The woman with the feeble knot of hair,
The bankrupt (and behind his saddle Care),
The Hawk, the tattered Birds on whom he preyed,
The clean-heart youngster, the devouring jade,
The penny-wise and frozen millionaire,
The parson and the publican, were there,
To make a fox in Leicestershire afraid.
How poor this sport to me, within whose brain
Another hunt was up! My hounds, unspent
By leagues of running since the lips of Dawn
Had tasted hoarfrost on the windowpane,
Still fevered by the quarry's beauty, went
Along the sweetness of my chosen fawn.
Another hunt was up! My hounds, unspent
By leagues of running since the lips of Dawn
Had tasted hoarfrost on the windowpane,
Still fevered by the quarry's beauty, went
Along the sweetness of my chosen fawn.
| Verse in bloom | |