Sonnets Round the Coast by H. D. Rawnsley |
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KETTLENESS AND HOB HOLE. |
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 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
155
IX. KETTLENESS AND HOB HOLE.
We drank the villagers' unfailing spring,And as from hollow stone to stone we stepped,
We knew that generations here had left
Mark of the labourers' thirst at evening.
Thence turned we to the slopes of fern and ling,
Dappled with seamew wings, and overswept
With noises of the sea, and in the cleft
Saw that dark cave where Hob found sheltering.
Good fellow, Robin, though the days are drear,
And men have set their fancy all on gold,
Still can the fisher-children dream; and yet
Thy name among the seekers after jet
Is household word, the shepherds, far and near,
Can bless or curse thee for their luck a-fold.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |