English Downs

Here, long ere kings to battle rode
In thunder of the drum,
And trumps fee-faughed defiance,
And taut bow-strings whistled, " Come! " —

This air breathed milky sweet
With nodding columbine,
Dangled upon the age-gnarled thorn
The clematis twine;

Meek harebell hung her head
Over the green-turfed chalk,
And the lambs with their dams forgathered
Where the shepherds talk.
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