TO-DAY, all day, I rode upon the down, |
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With hounds and horsemen, a brave company |
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On this side in its glory lay the sea, |
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On that the Sussex weald, a sea of brown. |
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The wind was light, and brightly the sun shone, |
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And still we gallop’d on from gorse to gorse: |
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And once, when check’d, a thrush sang, and my horse |
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Prick’d his quick ears as to a sound unknown. |
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I knew the Spring was come. I knew it even |
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Better than all by this, that through my chase |
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In bush and stone and hill and sea and heaven |
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I seem’d to see and follow still your face. |
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Your face my quarry was. For it I rode, |
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My horse a thing of wings, myself a god. |