Page:Eclogues; a book of poems.djvu/21

 ON THE HEATH

WHITE HUMOURS veining Earth,

The lymphic winds of Spring

Veil an early morning

When on the hill

Men in cool sleeves dig the soil,

Turning the loam or acrid manure

With gripes that clink on stones.

Silently horses speed on the sandy track.

Lithe in white sweaters

Two runners lean against a fountain.

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