This page has been validated.
ROBIN HERRICK IN EIGHTS WEEK.
When in a punt my Julia goes
She wields the pole and chastely shows
Her dainty ankles—I repose.
And as she poles she smiling thinks
"I'm glad I wore the silk ones—pink's
My colour"—O the crafty minx!
I, meditating on her charms,
Her supple grace, her bare brown arms . . .
Suddenly, smitten with alarms
I feel a scratch. O where are we?
Under the spiky hawthorn tree,
Whither her punting taketh me!