Fastness - Poem by Rudyard Kipling
This is the end whereto men toiled
Before thy coachman guessed his fate,--
How thou shouldst leave thy, 'scutcheoned gate
On that new wheel which is the oiled--
To see the England Shakespeare saw
(Oh, Earth, 'tis long since Shallow died!
Yet by yon farrowed sow may hide
Some blue deep minion of the Law)--
To range from Ashby-de-la-Zouch
By Lyonnesse to Locksley Hall,
Or haply, nearer home, appal
Thy father's sister's staid barouche.
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