A Runnable Stag - by
When the pods went pop on the broom, green broom,And apples began to be golden-skinn’d,We harbour’d a stag in the Priory coomb,And we feather’d his trail up-wind, up-wind,We feather’d his trail up-wind—A stag of warrant, a stag, a stag,A runnable stag, a kingly crop,Brow, bay and tray and three on top,A stag, a runnable stag. […]