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119
Sir Richard Owen.
DECEMBER 18TH, 1892.
He saw the light on Morecambe's golden sands,
The crooked Lune ran silver to the main,
And he went seawards, but his soul was fain
By helm of thought to seek for other lands
And sound the deep of knowledge. To his hands
Earth gave primeval secrets, o'er the plain
Flew bat-winged pterodactyls, once again
Through swamp and ooze the Saurian pushed in bands.
The crooked Lune ran silver to the main,
And he went seawards, but his soul was fain
By helm of thought to seek for other lands
And sound the deep of knowledge. To his hands
Earth gave primeval secrets, o'er the plain
Flew bat-winged pterodactyls, once again
Through swamp and ooze the Saurian pushed in bands.
Revealer of the times of tooth and claw,
He filled the world with dragons; bone by bone
Guessed at the bird Dinornis great and grim,
But as he listened to the blackbird's hymn
He heard a prophet voice, an angel tone
Sing of a higher life with Love for Law.
He filled the world with dragons; bone by bone
Guessed at the bird Dinornis great and grim,
But as he listened to the blackbird's hymn
He heard a prophet voice, an angel tone
Sing of a higher life with Love for Law.
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