 | Sungleams |  |
58
XLII. ON THE RECENT DISCOVERY OF AN ANGLO-SAXON BURYING-PLACE IN LONDESBOROUGH PARK.
A thousand years like waves have rolled
Across this bare and windy wold,
Since here were laid, in kindred clay,
Sad wanderers of a cheerless day,
Sheep that no Shepherd knew, or fold.
Across this bare and windy wold,
Since here were laid, in kindred clay,
Sad wanderers of a cheerless day,
Sheep that no Shepherd knew, or fold.
These amber beads, these daggers old,
And brooches, which no garments hold,
Have ne'er reflected one warm ray
A thousand years.
And brooches, which no garments hold,
Have ne'er reflected one warm ray
A thousand years.
Lord, give me faith and love, I pray,
A quiet spirit's meek array,
Which still shall shine, like wreathèd gold,
Or precious stones of worth untold,
When o'er my dust have rolled away
A thousand years!
A quiet spirit's meek array,
Which still shall shine, like wreathèd gold,
Or precious stones of worth untold,
When o'er my dust have rolled away
A thousand years!
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