I <br /> <br />There runs a road by Merrow Down-- <br />A grassy track to-day it is-- <br />An hour out Guildford town, <br />Above the river Wey it is. <br /> <br />Here, when they heard the hors-bells ring, <br />The ancient Britons dressed and rode <br />To which the dark Phoenicians bring <br />Their goods along the Western Road. <br /> <br />Yes, here, or hereabouts, they met <br />To hold their racial talks and such-- <br />To barter beads for Whitby jet, <br />And tin for gay shell torques and such. <br /> <br />But long ago before that time <br />(When bison used to roam on it) <br />Did Taffy and her Daddy climb <br />That Down, and had their home on it. <br /> <br />Then beavers built in Broadstonebrook <br />And made a swamp where Bramley stands; <br />And bears from Shere would come and look <br />For Taffimai where Shamley stands. <br /> <br />The Wey, that Taffy called Wagai, <br />Was more than six times bigger then; <br />And all the Tribe of Tegumai <br />They cut a noble figure then! <br /> <br /> <br />II <br /> <br />Of all the Tribe of Tegumai <br />Who cut that figure, none remain,-- <br />On Merrow Down the cuckoos cry-- <br />The silence and the sun remain. <br /> <br />But as the faithful years return <br />And hearts unwounded sing again, <br />Comes Taffy dancing through the fern <br />To lead the Surrey spring again. <br /> <br />Her brows are bound with bracken-fronds, <br />And golden elf-locks fly above; <br />Her eyes are bright as diamonds <br />And bluer than the sky above. <br /> <br />In moccasins and deer-skin cloak, <br />Unfearing, free and fair she flits, <br />And lights her little damp-wood smoke <br />To show her Daddy where she flits. <br /> <br />For far--oh, very far behind, <br />So far she cannot call to him, <br />Comes Tegumai alone to find <br />The daughter that was all to him!<br /><br />Rudyard Kipling<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/merrow-down/
