The Lady of the Pool (continued)
by tax-chandler’s Black Exchecky Book1 nor yet thumbed Archie’s piscopal Ordoa to figure out the moon of it.
From the Two Sticks an’ a’ Apple2 to Bride o’ the Shandies’ Well3 over the Fleet; from Hallows-on-Wall to the keel-haws4; from the ditch without the Vicinal Gate5 to Lud’s hill; within and extra the fending circuit, both banks the wide and demarking middle-brook that waters, from the midst of the street of it,6 our twin-hilled Urbs7. At Martin milesb in the Pomarary8 (where the Roman pippins grow) at winged Marmor miles,9 gilt-lorica’d on his wheat-hill, sticking the Laidly Worm as threats to coil us all.
At the Lady-at-Hill
above Romeland’s wharf-lanes10
at the Great Mother’s newer chapelle
at New Heva’s Old Crepel.11
(Chthonic matres under the croft:
springan a Maye’s Aves to clerestories.
Delphi in sub-crypt:
luce flowers to steeple.)c
At Paul’s and faiths under Paul
so Iuppiter me succour!
they do garland them with Roman roses and do have stitched on their zoomorphic apparels and vest ’em gay for Artemis.
When is brought in her stag to be pierced, when is bowed his meek head between the porch and the altar, when is blowed his sweet death at the great door, on the day before the calends o’ Quintilis.12
At the tunicledd martyr’s13
from where prillse the seeding under-stream.
At Mary of the Birth14
by her long bourn of sweet water.
In where she mothers
her painters an’ limners