Page:Eclogues; a book of poems.djvu/21

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ON THE HEATH

WHITE HUMOURS veining Earth,
The lymphic winds of Spring
Veil an early morning
When on the hill
Men in cool sleeves dig the soil,
Turning the loam or acrid manure
With gripes that clink on stones.

Silently horses speed on the sandy track.

Lithe in white sweaters
Two runners lean against a fountain.



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