Fastness

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This is the end whereto men toiled
 Before thy coachman guessed his fate,-
 How thou shouldst leave thy, 'scutcheoned gate
On that new wheel which is the oiled-

To see the England Shakespeare saw
 (Oh, Earth, 'tis long since Shallow died!
 Yet by yon farrowed sow may hide
Some blue deep minion of the Law)-

To range from Ashby-de-la-Zouch
 By Lyonnesse to Locksley Hall,
 Or haply, nearer home, appal
Thy father's sister's staid barouche.

© Rudyard Kipling