No devil-watered blackberries,
Whose succulence is long past anyway,
Since Winterâ€™s chill blew down the collar of the wood,
Swept clean the dell and dingle, copse and field.
Sweep clean the dell and dingle, halt the yield,
Hiberniaâ€™s onset blast! Freeze crop and crud!
Theyâ€™ll shiver in a gasp of shorter days
And doff their autumn liveries.