Thomas Hardy — Growth in May

I enter a daisy-and-buttercup land,        &nbsp And thence thread a jungle of grass: Hurdles and stiles scarce visible stand        &nbsp Above the lush stems as I pass. Hedges peer over, and try to be seen,        &nbsp And seem to reveal a dim sense That amid such ambitious and elbow-high green        &nbsp They make a mean show as a fence. Elsewhere the mead is possessed of the neats,        &nbsp That range not greatly above The rich rank thicket which brushes their teats,        &nbsp And her gown, as she waits for her Love.