 | Sonnets Round the Coast |  |
186
XXIV. FAREWELL TO WHITBY.
Farewell! the silver dazzle of the tide,That to the Esk such life and beauty brings;
The gleaming harbour towers, the glancing wings
Of boats that down the slopes of ocean glide,
Or hang in air, phantasmal, glorified.
Farewell! the blue roof smoke that curls and clings,
The solemn Abbey's overshadowings,
And o'er the town, the dead men side by side.
Farewell! If I should never see thee more,
If not again the pivot bridge of chance
Should swing above the stream of severing days,
Yet still in heart I lounge along the quays,
Mix in the market, learn the fishers' lore,
And grasp hands round from Shetland to Penzance.
| Sonnets Round the Coast | |