Page:The eighth sin (IA eighthsin00morlrich).pdf/39



the fitful sun has beckoned the crocus
 * Up from the womb of the chill wet mould,

And the sounds and scents of spring provoke us
 * From cloisters grey and damp and old,
 * When the fleeces of heaven are all unrolled

And windy March gives promise of June
 * And the world is blue and green and gold—

Then hey for a bicycling afternoon!

When the quickening blood brings into focus
 * All in our souls that is gay and bold

Away from the dons and their hocus-pocus
 * Ride where the Thames runs clean and cold
 * Under Swinford Bridge or by Cumnor wold—

On with the magical seven-league shoon!
 * Colour and fragrance manifold

Are ours on a bicycling afternoon.

And, if the rain does fall and soak us
 * (What did Chaucer mean when he told

Of the drought of March! Was he trying to joke us?)
 * A wetting can be at an inn consoled.