With seed the sowers scatter The furrows as they go; Poor lads, 'tis little matter How many sorts they sow, For only one will grow.
The charlock on the fallow Will take the traveller's eyes, And gild the ploughland sallow With flowers before it dies. But twice 'twill not arise.
The stinging nettle only Will still be found to stand: The numberless, the lonely, The thronger of the land, The leaf that hurts the hand.
It thrives, come sun, come showers, Blow east, blow west, it springs; It peoples towns, and towers About the courts of Kings, And touch it and it stings.
8 comments:
I wish they were riding bicycles. Just sayn'
My North Shore Receptionist GF from work texted me tit pics of her and her friends at a party last night.
So inappropriate.
tits.
Fowler said that furze and gorse are the only two exact synomyms in English.
[whispers] If you subsidize it, they will come addicted
I didn't think His Poutiness socialized with all those Euros.
Especially in the country.
Wait a minute! Is that cotton?
Someone needs to yell, SNAKE!
Houseman's nettle poem
With seed the sowers scatter
The furrows as they go;
Poor lads, 'tis little matter
How many sorts they sow,
For only one will grow.
The charlock on the fallow
Will take the traveller's eyes,
And gild the ploughland sallow
With flowers before it dies.
But twice 'twill not arise.
The stinging nettle only
Will still be found to stand:
The numberless, the lonely,
The thronger of the land,
The leaf that hurts the hand.
It thrives, come sun, come showers,
Blow east, blow west, it springs;
It peoples towns, and towers
About the courts of Kings,
And touch it and it stings.
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