![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYzvIhaxxS-PfCIvtS1YPaEhiSSRdxalkPZOaayQSiX5NmnEjCdE3XfJGBtRUWLRqIwM-E6ExGZC4ujU1GnIdGMaRgaUzyDTSkKaW1WJwBxzFD37fud4efO0ayhESY2ScgCKHlFw/s400/WoodlandMaiden.jpg)
I think of the slope where the rabbits fed,
Of the periwinks' rockwork lair,
Of the fuchsias ringing their bells of red -
And the something else seen there.
Between the blooms where the sod basked bright,
By the bobbing fuchsia trees,
Was another and yet more eyesome sight -
The sight that richened these.
I shall seek those beauties in the spring,
When the days are fit and fair,
But only as foils to the one more thing
That also will flower there!
1 comment:
Check out my blog for a post on Thomas Hardy!
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