Sonnets Round the Coast by H. D. Rawnsley |
 |
 | I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. | IX.
BY THE BARROW ON AFTON DOWN,
FRESHWATER, ISLE OF WIGHT. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
11
IX. BY THE BARROW ON AFTON DOWN, FRESHWATER, ISLE OF WIGHT.
Buried beneath this mound, whoe'er ye be,Briton, or Cerdric's sons that smote old Rome,
And dispossessed her of this island home,
And scared her yelping eagles out to sea—
Before ye slept upon this solemn lea,
Between the tranquil Solent and the foam,
Ye heard the same voice with the springtime come
That fills mine ears and sets my fancy free.
For still from winding Yar the peewits call,
The waves are loud beneath the white cliff wall,
Still from the landward pastures at my feet
Lambs tremulous cry and anxious mothers bleat,
And in the gorse, new-gilded by the spring,
With notes ye knew I hear the blackbird sing.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |