John Clare
The old pond full of flags and fenced around
With trees and bushes trailing to the ground
The water weeds are all around the brink
And one clear place where cattle go to drink
From year to year the schoolboy thither steals
And muddys round the place to catch the eels
The cowboy often hiding from the flies
Lies there and plaits the rushcap as he lies
The hissing owl sits moping all the day
And hears his song and never flies away
The pink nest hangs up upon the branch so thin
The young ones caw and seem as tumbling in
While around them thrums the purple dragon flye
And great white butter flye goes dancing by.