George J Whyte Melville Poems

Oh! once I believed in a woman's kiss,
I had faith in a flattering tongue,
For lip to lip was a promise of bliss,
...

In the hollow, by the pollard, where the crop is tall and rank
Of the dock-leaf and the nettle growing free,
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Hunters are fretting, and hacks in a lather,
Sportsmen arriving from left and from right;
Bridle-roads bringing them, see how they gather,
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Go strip him, lad! Now, sir, I think you'll declare
Such a picture you never set eyes on before.
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Come, I'll show you a country that none can surpass,
For a flyer to cross like a bird on the wing,
We have acres of woodland and oceans of grass,
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