WITHYPOOL.  

Beneath the Beech,
The Sprawling Beech,
I stood,
Lonely in my shadow,
Whilst it shod, its leaves,
Its golden leaves,
A brace appeared,
Mid the Shine,
Sun blessed,
And Dew blessed,
Ready for the Pot,
For our waters flowed,
And time it passed,
Beneath the Bridge,
Our Sacred Bridge,
Of Sacred Stones ,
When our Page was turned,
And relic's passed.