Here have I learnt the little that I know, <br />Here where in these untutored woodland ways <br />The primrose, all unconscious of our praise, <br />Dimpled the dainty coverlet of the snow, <br />March's first-born, and, still averse to go, <br />Though drowsy-lidded, dallies and delays <br />When, dawning through the bluebell's heavenly haze, <br />June into full mid-summer broadeneth slow. <br />Forgive me, friend, if these mean more to me, <br />Imbue my being with a deeper lore, <br />Come nearer to my heart, instruct me more <br />In what I am and what I fain would be, <br />Even than Sabine summit, Oscan shore, <br />Or Tiber curving tawnily to the sea.'<br /><br />Alfred Austin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-have-i-learnt-the-little-that-i-know/
