Binsey Poplars

felled 1879

My aspens dear, whose airy cages quelled,
..Quelled or quenched in leaves the leaping sun,
..All felled, felled, are all felled;
…..Of a fresh and following folded rank
…………….Not spared, not one
…………….That dandled a sandalled
…..Shadow that swam or sank
On meadow & river & wind-wandering weed-winding bank.

..O if we but knew what we do
……When we delve or hew —
Hack and rack the growing green!
……Since country is so tender
To touch, her being só slender,
That, like this sleek and seeing ball
But a prick will make no eye at all,
Where we, even where we mean
……………To mend her we end her,
………When we hew or delve:
After-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
Ten or twelve, only ten or twelve
…….Strokes of havoc unselve
………….The sweet especial scene,
Rural scene, a rural scene,
Sweet especial rural scene.