Claribel: A Melody
~ WHERE Claribel low-lieth
The breezes pause and die,
Letting the rose-leaves fall:
But the solemn oak-tree sigheth,
Thick-leaved, ambrosial,
With an ancient melody
Of an inward agony,
Where Claribel low-lieth.
At eve the beetle boometh
Athwart the thicket lone:
At noon the wild bee hummeth
About the moss'd headstone:
At midnight the moon cometh,
And looketh down alone.
Her song the lintwhite swelleth,
The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth,
The callow throstle lispeth,
The slumbrous wave outwelleth,
The babbling runnel crispeth,
The hollow grot replieth
Where Claribel low-lieth.
~ Alfred Lord Tennyson
Where Charlie low-lieth
krm
(with apologies to Tennyson)
I.
WHERE Charlie low-lieth
The grasses pause and die,
Letting Charlie creep on:
But the solemn lawn-mower sigheth,
Four-cycled, amply-octaneth,
With a machine melody,
A plaintive cacophony,
Where Charlie low-creepeth.
II.
At eve the camp-ground boometh
Athwart the spruce and scrub:
At noon the wild motor-cycle hummeth
A salient summer hub-bub.
At midnight satellites zoometh,
And spyeth on our pub.
III.
Weed-kill we mayeth not sprayeth,
Lawns we mayeth not sprinkleth.
So Charlie snaketh and leapeth,
While the stars above all twinkleth,
The garden bank is covereth,
Don't you just a-lovereth?
Under spirea he twineth,
Heuchera through serpentineth,
On thickest mulch reclineth:
Across the verge he sweepeth.
The gardener silently weepeth
Where Charlie low-creepeth.
krm