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Ha’nacker Mill Sally is gone that was so kindly, Sally is gone from Ha’nacker Hill And the Briar grows ever since then so blindly; And ever since then the clapper is still... And the sweeps have fallen from Ha’nacker Mill. Ha’nacker Hill is in Desolation: Ruin a-top and a field unploughed. And Spirits that call on a fallen nation, Spirits that loved her calling aloud, Spirits abroad in a windy cloud. Spirits that call and no one answers -- Ha’nacker’s down and England’s done. Wind and Thistle for pipe and dancers, And never a ploughman under the Sun: Never a ploughman. Never a one. Hilaire Belloc's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1221 |
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