By Langley Bush I roam, but the bush hath left its hill, On Cowper Green I stray, 'tis a desert strange and chill, And the spreading Lea Close Oak, ere decay had penned its will, To the axe of the spoiler and self-interest fell a prey, And Crossberry Way and old Round Oak's narrow lane With its hollow trees like pulpits I shall never see again, Enclosure like a Buonaparte let not a thing remain, It levelled every bush and tree and levelled every hill And hung the moles for traitors - though the brook is running still It runs a naked stream, cold and chill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO QUINTUS SEPTIMIUS FLORENTIS CHRISTIANUS: TROY by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 3. ISAAC BROWN by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM LYSISTRATA: HYMN OF PEACE; CHORUSES OF ATHENIANS AND SPARTANS by ARISTOPHANES LINES FOR THE HOUR by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG THE JOLLY COMPANY by RUPERT BROOKE IN MEMORY OF A DUMB FRIEND by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR SPRING GLADNESS by JOHN BURROUGHS |