Day 9. Inversnaid by Gerard Manley Hopkins.
The darksome burn, horseback brown,
His rollock highroad dancing down,
In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam
Flutes and low to the lake falls home,
A windpuff=bonnet of fawn-frowning.
Dregged with dew, dappled with dew
Are the groins of the braes that the brook treads through.
Why heathpacks. Flitches of fern,
And the beadbonny ash that sits over the burn.
What would the world be, once bereft
Of wet and wildness? Let them be left,
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
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