Here's hackneyed Devon Harbours (but the pollock's biting active);
Here's Evening (rise in Hampshire); here's The Roller on the Pitch;
And music in the lot o' them—it doesn't matter which.
We've long White Roads o' Brittany and pretty Wayside Posies,
Blue Bays (beneath the undercliff—the white sails crawling by);
We've Rabbits in a Hedgerow (how the bustling Clumber noses);
We've Grouse Across the Valley (crashing crumpled from the sky);
And magic's in each note of her—it doesn't matter why.
Here's Salmon Songs and Shrimping Songs, according to your pocket;
Here's Hopping (with a lurcher—twice as useful as a gun