Excerpt from Songs of the Uplands
Glorious uplands Sweeping to Skyward, Ribbed with the seams of Ancient furrows, Wind-laid, rush-tuf ted, Ridging the barrow, Ploughed there of old time By some grave husbandman, Sturdy Piers Plowman, Our foremost father, Who, as he mounted th... e Lea with his oxen, Here haply breathed a space, Gazed on the welkin, Down in the west there Watched the sun setting, Then slowly nightwards, Stallwards he drove them; Hedged his rude iniplement, Stabled his oxen.
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