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Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road throu the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate
(They fear not men in the woods
Becauase they see so few),
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet
Steadily cantering through
THe misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
THe old lost road through the woods ...
But there is no road throught the woods!
The Shark swims,
In the dark,
Of the Deep,
It's eyes gleams ,
As it sees streams of,
Gold Fish,
Bold Fish,
Swiming too Near,
For the shark is well awared,
That here is a tasty dish of fish,
And the shark lies in wait,
No fisherman,
No flies,
No bait,
And the fish swim past,
the shark follows,
Fast and Swallows.
