A DAY AT HAMPTON COURT <br /> <br />It is our custom, once in every year, <br />Mine and two others', when the chestnut trees <br />Are white at Bushey, Ascot being near, <br />To drive to Hampton Court, and there, at ease <br />In that most fair of English palaces, <br />Spend a long summer's day. What better cheer <br />Than the old ``Greyhound's,'' seek it where you please? <br />And where a royal garden statelier? <br /> <br />The morning goes in tennis, a four set, <br />With George the marker. 'Tis a game for gods, <br />Full of return and volley at the net, <br />And laughter and mirth--making episodes <br />Not wholly classic. But the afternoon <br />Finds us punt--fishing idly with our rods, <br />Nodding and half in dreams, till all too soon <br />Darkness and dinner drive us back to town.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-idler-s-calendar-twelve-sonnets-for-the-months-june/
