The Collar-Bone of a Hare

    Where many a king has gone

    And many a king‘s daughter，

    And alight at the comely trees and the lawn，

    The playing upon pipes and the dancing，

    And learn that the best thing is

    To change my loves while dancing

    And pay but a kiss for a kiss.

    I would find by the edge of that water

    The collar-bone of a hare

    Worn thin by the lapping of water，

    And pierce it through with a gimlet and stare

    At the old bitter world where they marry in churches，

    And laugh over the untroubled water

    At all who marry in churches，

    Through the white thin bone of a hare.