Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
The Pat of Butter
Once, at the Agricultural Show, We tasted – all so yellow – Those butter-pats, cool and mellow! Each taste I still remember, though It was so long ago. This spoke of the grass of Netherhay, And this of Kingcomb Hill, And this of Coker Rill: Which was the prime I could not say Of all those tried that day, Till she, the fair and wicked-eyed, Held out a pat to me: Then felt I all Yeo-Lea Was by her sample sheer outvied; And, ‘This is the best,’ I cried.
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