Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/223

Rh Far underneath the Ogbourne twins,

And at my feet the thyme and whins,

The grasses with their little crowns

Of gold, the lovely Aldbourne downs,

And that old signpost (well I knew

That crazy signpost, arms askew,

Old mother of the four grass ways).

And then my mouth is dumb with praise,

For, past the wood and chalkpit tiny,

A glimpse of Marlborough !

So I descend beneath the rail

To warmth and welcome and wassail.

This from the battered trenches—rough,

Jingling and tedious enough.

And so I sign myself to you:

One, who some crooked pathways knew

Round Bedwyn: who could scarcely leave

The Downs on a December eve:

Was at his happiest in shorts,

And got—not many good reports!

Small skill of rhyming in his hand—

But you'll forgive—you'll understand.

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