Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/153

 By Tupman's meadow
 * They did their mile,

Tee-to-tum
 * On a three-barred stile.

Then straight through Whipham,
 * Downhill to Week,

Footing it lightsome,
 * But not too quick.

Up fields to Watthet,
 * And on through Wye,

Till seven fine churches
 * They'd seen skip by —

Seven fine churches,
 * And five old mills,

Farms in the valley,
 * And sheep on the hills;

Old Man's Acre
 * And Dead Man's Pool

All left behind.
 * As they danced through Wool.

And Wool gone by,
 * Like tops that seem

To spin in sleep
 * They danced in dream:

Withy — Wellover —
 * Wassop — Wo —

Like an old clock
 * Their heels did go.

A league and a league
 * And a league they went,