Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
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Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
 
II. To a Brooklet
By David Gray (1838–1861)
 
O DEEP unlovely brooklet, moaning slow
  Through moorish fen in utter loneliness!
The partridge cowers beside thy loamy flow
  In pulseful tremor, when with sudden press
The huntsman fluskers through the rustled heather.        5
  In March thy sallow buds from vermeil shells
Break satin-tinted, downy as the feather
  Of moss-chat that among the purplish bells
Breasts into fresh new life her three unborn.
  The plover hovers o’er thee, uttering clear        10
And mournful-strange his human cry forlorn.
  While wearily, alone, and void of cheer
Thou guid’st thy nameless waters from the fen,
To sleep unsunned in an untrampled glen.
 
 
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