And up between the mossy rails
It lightly climbs, and clambers through
The growing corn, and barley, too,
And winds the fallow weeds and trails
Along the creek where cowslips grew.
O lavish stems, that fondly fling
Close clasp about the earth, and cling
In wreaths of fragrant flowering,
Ev’n as ye do
To that dear soil wherefrom ye spring,