Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/279

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To the sheep on the lea o' the down; Where the golden furze, With its green, thin spurs, Doth catch at the maiden's gown.

There's Newton Marsh, With its spear-grass harsh,— A pleasant summer level; Where the maidens sweet Of the Market street, Do meet in the dark to revel.

There's Barton rich, With dyke and ditch, Add hedge for the thrush to live in; And the hollow tree, For the buzzing bee, And a bank for the wasp to hive in.

And O and O, The daisies blow. And the primroses are wakened; And the violets white Sit in silver light, And the green buds are long iti the spike end.

Then who would go Into dark Soho,