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From Poly-Olbion FROM Wytham, mine own town, first watered with my source, | |
| As to the Eastern sea I hasten on my course, | |
| Who sees so pleasant plains, or is of fairer seen, | |
| Whose swains in shepherds gray, and girls in Lincoln green? | |
| Whilst some the rings of bells, and some the bagpipes ply, | 5 |
| Dance many a merry round, and many a hydegy. | |
| I envy any brook should in my pleasure share, | |
| Yet for my dainty pikes I am without compare. | |
| No land floods can me force to over-proud a height; | |
| Nor am I in my course too crooked or too streight: | 10 |
| My depths fall by descents, too long, nor yet too broad; | |
| My fords with pebbles clear as orient pearls are strowed; | |
| My gentle winding banks with sundry flowers are dressed, | |
| The higher rising heaths hold distance with my breast. | |
| Thus to her proper song the burthen still she bare: | 15 |
| Yet for my dainty pikes I am without compare. | |
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| By this to Lincoln come, upon whose lofty scite, | |
| Whilst wistly Wytham looks with wonderful delight | |
| Enamoured of the state and beauty of the place, | |
| That her of all the rest especially doth grace, | 20 |
| Leaving her former course, in which she first set forth, | |
| Which seemed to have been directly to the north, | |
| She runs her silver front into the muddy fen, | |
| Which lies into the east, in her deep journey, when | |
| Clear Ban, a pretty brook, from Lindsey coming down, | 25 |
| Delicious Wytham leads to holy Botulphs town, | |
| Where proudly she puts in amongst the great resort, | |
| That their appearance make in Neptunes watery court. | |
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