Old Judd
They buried old Judd the other day,
the poet laureate of the hay,
the village bard of mighty word,
admired by goats, by cats preferred.
Human admirers had he few
applauded less by voice than moo,
but children liked him and at times
the vicar said he liked his rhymes.
What record did he leave behind?
If such there is, there's naught to find.
Milton in everything but fame?
A Donne or Gray in all but name?
Forsake those books, consult no tome.
Hear nature's voce where e'er you roam.
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