Came plodding up to milking house,
Followed by Frank, the Callows' cowman,
Who whistled 'Adam was a ploughman.'
There come such cawing from the rooks,
Such running chuck from little brooks,
One thought it March, just budding green
With hedgerows full of celandine.
An otter out of stream and played,
Two hares come loping up and stayed;
Wide-eyed and tender-eared but bold.