YOU'VE GOT
NO TINTERN ABBEY
You've got no Tintern Abbey and now
you've stolen my land for your lordly
vineyards. There is no exceptionalism here,
and I would be amiss not to mention: I don't
drink your stuff, and my children drink but
milk. These quiet, mandolin ways have kept
us for years, just like this, though now
that you've moved in with your shovels,
what else will come? My place in that
graveyard on Titlehurst Hill is already
assured; it matters not to me. I shall
not dawdle to go, to be sure, though,
as well, I will not rush - certain things
do take time, after all. This all shames
me as well, to my center fall, yet I must
now let it be. You've got no Tintern
Abbey here, hanging over me.
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