Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||
91
XCI. HAWKSHEAD FROM FURNESS FELLS.
The Poet was thy nursling, here he drankHis first boy thoughts of Nature and her will:
How often, fresh from school, he clomb this hill,
And, stretched in sun upon the heathy bank,
Endowed with life the mountains, rank on rank;
Or, in the time of earliest daffodil,
Watched April storm the open valley fill,
And drive the snow to Bowfell's iron flank.
For him the walls that shut the Western sky,
From Walney Scar to Langdale's double horn,
Seemed but to nerve his music's growing wing:
The sun might dip beyond the hills, and die,
But, bright as day, was Fancy's deathless morn;
The Lark might hush, but still his heart would sing.
Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||