THE PADDOCK
Further, his fellows came flying in flocks,
Gemming the rushes, and gilding the rocks,
Beckoning, beckoning! Onward I roll’d....
Lighter the gloom became, brighter the gold....
Till, pushing, entreating, Ah! winning my way—
Out of the Dark I ran, into the Day!
There, for a little, my way I lost—
Wandering off in a score of tracks....
Oozing thro’ alleys velvet-moss’d,
Looping, lacing the Fern and Flax,
Crumbling hoof-prints furtively fingering,
Leisurely under the cool Turf lingering....
Till, how I know not, gather’d and guided,
All together again I glided,
Stay’d awhile for a last caress
To Mandarin-Button, and Watercress,
Then, under yon wire was led, and tame
Here, to the level Paddock came.
Like a polish’d column long,
Nodding Grass and Flowers among,
One long line of liquid light,
Softly, smoothly, stilly bright,
’Mid the Paddock now I lie—
Yet still slip and slither by!
Painted is my peaceful sheen
With white and yellow, blue and green;
Many a mouth is bent to drink,
Now, upon my easy brink;
And I water Poplar-shoots,
Apricot and Apple-roots,
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