Who are sworn "Brothers of the Angle."
Scents of fresh pastures, wilding rose,
All trailing flowers that intertangle
In England's hedgerows, seem to fill
Its pages and our pulses thrill.
We see the stretch "up Totnam Hil,"
Toward the "Thatcht House" that fresh May morning;
We hear Viator praise the skill
That he was first inclined to scorning;
We mark the Master's friendly proffer