Sonnets Round the Coast by H. D. Rawnsley |
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AT ALNMOUTH. |
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 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
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XI. AT ALNMOUTH.
Not for the dead, not for the dead, O Lord,But for the living ever in Thy sight,
The souls made perfect in the perfect light,
Whose hands are ever on truth's keenest sword,
For these we sorrow, and in full accord
Aln, as she winds from Percy's castled height,
Makes moan, yet runs unlingering to the bight
By yonder mound, where dead men's bones are stored.
But in this amphitheatre of green
There is such mimic gladiatorial show,
The net, the ball, the golf-club blow on blow,
That Aln runs back and brims her banks between:
Life, thoughtless life, as innocent as gay,
Has such strong power to charm, she needs must stay.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |