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by John Keats

I. -

For there's Bishop's teign

And King's teign

And Coomb at the clear Teign head-

Where close by the stream

You may have your cream

All spread upon barley bread. -

II. -

There's Arch Brook

And there's Larch Brook

Both turning many a mill

And cooling the drouth

Of the salmon's mouth

And fattening his silver gill. -

III. -

There is Wild Wood

A mild hood

To the sheep on the lea o' the down

Where the golden furze

With its greenthin spurs

Doth catch at the maiden's gown. -

IV. -

There is Newton Marsh

With its spear grass harsh-

A pleasant summer level

Where the maidens sweet

Of the Market Street

Do meet in the dusk to revel. -

V. -

There's the Barton rich

With dyke and ditch

And hedge for the thrush to live in

And the hollow tree

For the buzzing bee

And a bank for the wasp to hive in. -

VI. -

And Oand

The daisies blow

And the primroses are waken'd

And violets white

Sit in silver plight

And the green bud's as long as the spike end. -

VII. -

Then who would go

Into dark Soho

And chatter with dack'd-hair'd critics

When he can stay

For the new-mown hay

And startle the dappled prickets? - -