| ROUND the house were lilacs and strawberries | |
| And foal-foots spangling the paths, | |
| And far away on the sand-hills, dewberries | |
| Caught dust from the seas long swaths. | |
| |
| Up the wolds the woods were walking, | 5 |
| And nuts fell out of their hair. | |
| At the gate the nets hung, balking | |
| The star-lit rush of a hare. | |
| |
| In the autumn fields, the stubble | |
| Tinkled the music of gleaning. | 10 |
| At a mothers knees, the trouble | |
| Lost all its meaning. | |
| |
| Yea, what good beginnings | |
| To this sad end! | |
| Have we had our innings? | 15 |
| God forfend! | |