Rudyard Kipling — Fastness Tennyson

This is the end whereto men toiled      Before thy coachman guessed his fate,—      How thou shouldst leave thy, ’scutcheoned gate On that new wheel which is the oiled— To see the England Shakespeare saw      (Oh, Earth, ’tis long since Shallow died!      Yet by yon farrowed sow may hide Some blue deep minion of the Law)— To range from Ashby-de-la-Zouch      By Lyonnesse to Locksley Hall,      Or haply, nearer home, appal Thy father’s sister’s staid barouche.