POETRY.
MANCHESTER v. THIRTMERE.
WITH suppliant air she came to plead
For thirsty souls beneath her sway; We had compassion on her need And let her bear our springs away.
And so through prisoning pipes and caverns long She led them, silencing the streamlet's song.
We bore that through the toiling years Our pleasant hills were seamed and scarred; We strove to calm artistic fears And smooth the plumes of ruffled bard.
We trusted to the pledges given by her (We did not doubt thee then, false Manchester!).
She promised, did we let her take Our water hence, her care should be To guard, around our larger lake, The beauty thousands flocked to see.
We lent a readier car who long had known
Her creed of "Lasser faire" or "let alone."
Now, false to creed and pledges given, Repulsing nature's kindly aid, She makes her artificial heaven In place of that which God had made. With alien blocks of red and gates of blue She decorates the roads, "improves " the view A forest—latest here that clings To mountain side—she tears away; It does not harmonise with things Around—suburban sages say.
Each mossy wall she scrapes with jealous care, Lest Nature in her work should claim a share.
T. THOENELL
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