The trees hung overhead—our feet
Were on the sand.
* * * * *
“And let alighting jackdaws fleet
Adown it open-winged, and pass
Till they could touch with outstretched feet
The warmèd grass.”
And so on. Calverley has a little versification entitled “Changed.” Mark how ingeniously adroit he is in getting the jog-trot:
“I know not why my soul is racked
Why I ne’er smile as was my wont;