A Sonnet upon Ezekiel Rust

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A Sonnet upon Ezekiel Rust
written by John Masefield
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Son of Isaiah Rust, of Churn, his wage
Was eighteenpence a day, working for Squre,
With rabbits twice a year, and sticks for fire,
In a stoopt cottage, broken-backt with age

His life was among horses from his birth,
He uttered cries which horses understood,
He handled squire's stallion in his mood,
Strange blood being in him from the ancient earth.

Often, when moons were full, he ranged the Downs,
Much like the fox, but liker to the hare
Who forms in the themed glass in the hill air,
And sees from the hill edge, as the stars rise,
The glare in heaven above the market towns
And turns back to the midnight, being wise


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