The Haunted Bridge

No road leads hence. The stonechat flits
Along green fallow grey with stone ;
But here a dark-eyed urchin sits,
To whom the Painted Men were known.

Hush! do not move, but only look.
When sunny days are long and fine

This Roman truant baits a hook,
Drops o’er the keystone here a line,

And, dangling sandalled feet, looks down
To see the swift trout dart and gleam —
Or scarcely see them, hanging brown
With heads against the clear brown stream.

109g