The bard, and minor poems | ||
THE ALUM ROCKS.
These rocks, now shrouded o'er with oak and pine,Fern, bramble, flowering furze,—each rugged plant
Once shook with heavy toil through every mine,
And labour struggled for a nation's want.
The aspiring Chaloner, from hills of Rome,
Brought the rare art, and fixed it here—his home;
283
And Rome's imperious oriflamme unfurl'd:)
Stately they rise, firm, steadfast and serene,
Nor Winter harms them, nor the Autumn rains,
Yon fir-trees are their coronals of green,
And still they tower majestic o'er the plains;
Alas! the noble peasants are no more,
But nature reigns, and shall for evermore!
The bard, and minor poems | ||