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Wilfrid Scawen Blunt - The Rowfant Catalogue
Work rating: Low

Friends had he many, neighbours next to none.
 Rowfant and Crabbet lay few fields apart.
 Each Sunday saw him here, his church drill done,
 Duly stroll in to talk of books and art,
 Entrapped, may--be, to share my modest tart,
 Roast fowl and claret, and an evening won
 In stealth from Sabbath bonds strange to his heart.
 Childlike he prized these truant bursts of fun.
 --Long years ago! It needs his wit to jog
 Old time to life. Yet I remember well
 Companioning him home to the hill`s top
 Keen on his books, and how he paused to tell
 Eager the first news of this Catalogue.
 Reading it, see, the tears come and I stop.
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