Classic Poem

Rides a Lyrical Cock-Horse to Banbury Cross .

Little Old Lady,
Stop and come here;
Pause in the heyday
Of your career.
Put up your rings and bells,
Cover your toes;
Here is a music
That nobody knows.

Here, with the leafy throngs,
You shall learn all the songs
Chanted by toads and trees;
And the far melodies
Sung by the gypsy moon.
You shall hear every tune
Waken that ever was
Murmured within the grass.

Secrets shall rise and float
Out of the linnet's throat:
And every lily's bell
Shall yield its miracle.
You shall know all the fair
Import of every air;
Even the half-formed wish
Blown by the dreaming fish.

If you will stay with me
This shall be so;
You shall hear music
Wherever you go.
Here where it's shady
Naught hurries past.
Life, you Old Lady,
Why go so fast?