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Sonnets Round the Coast

by H. D. Rawnsley
  

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36

XVI. SPRING DREAMS AMONGST THE CORNISH MINERS.

Land of the horns of plenty! though thy seas
No longer feel the strong Phœnician oar,
Nor Carthaginians push their boats ashore
To claim a sister Cassiterides;
Though those man-moles who marred thy pleasant leas
Cease, and the streams run purer than before;
Though less the hammers ring, the chimneys roar,
And the grim shales grow heathery by degrees;
Still when the beech in hollow woods is bold,
And April scatters violets thro' the land,
When once again the cuckoo's tale is told,
And primrose breath on every breeze is fanned,
Thy gay gorse vision haunts the mining band,
They dream wild dreams of Californian gold.