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Sonnets Round the Coast

by H. D. Rawnsley
  

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203

VII. THE WANDERER'S TOMB ON THE FILEY HEIGHTS.

His was no ordinary soul, the brave
Who, as he felt the thundering surge of death
Sound in his ears, could yet, with his last breath,
Columbus-like, still murmur of the wave,
And bid them lay him dead where he might have
View of the long well-watered bay beneath;
So with his dagger, horn, and Druid wreath,
His soul might unastonied leave the grave.
For he had wandered far, before he time
They chose for him the hollowed oaken tree,
Had warred with men, had battled much with wind;
But still he kept the temper of his prime,
And still the wild unconquerable sea
Hid leagues of wonder for his warrior mind.