HE ROLLS IN THE ORCHARD

(A Child's Song)

Edward Thomas 1878-1917

He rolls in the orchard; he is stained with moss

And with earth, the solitary old white horse.

Where is his father and where is his mother

Among all the brown horses? Has he a brother?

I know the swallow, the hawk, and the hern;

But there are two million things for me to learn.

Who was the lady that rode the white horse

With rings and bells to Banbury Cross?

Was there no other lady in England beside

That a nursery rhyme could take for a ride?

The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.

There are two million things for me to learn.

Was there a man once who straddled across

The back of the Westbury White Horse

Over there on Salisbury’s Plain green wall?

Was he bound for Westbury , or had he a fall?

The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.

There are two million things for me to learn.

Out of all the white horses I know three,

At the age of six; and it seems to me

There is so much to learn, for men,

That I dare not go to bed again.

The swift, the swallow, the hawk, and the hern.

There are millions of things for me to learn.

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