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Sonnets Round the Coast

by H. D. Rawnsley
Rawnsley, H. D. (1851-1920)
  
[dedication]

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[section]
expand sectionI. 
BOOK I. SONNETS OF THE ISLE OF WIGHT AND SOUTH COAST.
expand sectionII. 
BOOK II. SONNETS OF THE CORNISH COASTS.
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BOOK III. SONNETS OF THE BRISTOL CHANNEL.
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BOOK IV. SONNETS OF THE WELSH COAST.
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BOOK V. SONNETS OF THE LANCASHIRE AND CUMBERLAND COASTS.
 I. 
I. EAST AND WEST.
 II. 
II. THE TOWER ON THE HOAD, ULVERSTON.
 III. 
III. A LAUNCH FROM THE FURNESS DOCKS.
 IV. 
IV. BLACK COMBE.
 V. 
V. ESKMEALS.
 VI. 
VI. AT KING HENRY'S CHAPEL, MUNCASTER.
 VII. 
VII. A QUIET AUTUMN DAY,
 VIII. 
VIII. AT MUNCASTER,
 IX. 
IX. THE DEATH OF OLAF THE DANE—
 X. 
X. HOME FROM THE EAST.
 XI. 
XI. THE LIGHT-SHIP, SEEN FROM SEASCALE.
 XII. 
XII. THE DRUID STONE NEAR MILLBECK, SEASCALE.
 XIII. 
XIII. BRAVE SAILING.
 XIV. 
XIV. AT SEASCALE.
 XV. 
XV. THE PREACHER'S SEASIDE LESSON.
 XVI. 
XVI. THE OLD WRECK AT SEASCALE.
 XVII. 
XVII. THE IRISH LAND LEAGUE.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. ROCK RUINS AT SEASCALE.
 XIX. 
XIX. THE GOSFORTH CROSS.
 XX. 
XX. SEASCALE MEMORIES.
 XXI. 
XXI. THE PEACE OF UNDERSTANDING.
 XXII. 
XXII. ARCHBISHOP GRINDAL,
 XXIII. 
XXIII. TOMB OF THOMAS DE COTTINGHAM,
 XXIV. 
XXIV. BEOWULF'S STONE, SAINT BEES.
 XXV. 
XXV. THE SNOW MIRACLE,
 XXVI. 
XXVI. THE FORESTER'S. TOMB, SAINT BEES.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. SAINT BEES.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. SEA-COTE, SAINT BEES.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. SEA-GULLS AT SAINT BEES.
 XXX. 
XXX. THE LARK ON TOMLINE HEAD.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. A DOUBTFUL MAY.
 XII. 
XII. MUSIC OF TWO WORLDS, SAINT BEES HEAD.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. THE IMPERISHABLE GOSPEL.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. THE GLADNESS OF THE SEA.
expand sectionVI. 
BOOK VI. SONNETS OF THE NORTH-EAST COAST.
expand sectionVII. 
BOOK VII.
expand sectionVIII. 
BOOK VIII. SONNETS OF THE LINCOLNSHIRE COAST.

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102

XXVI. THE FORESTER'S. TOMB, SAINT BEES.

Nameless the tomb, his forest-deeds unsung,
But this rude scrawl upon his monument,
Drawn as a child would draw, is eloquent;
For there he stands, his huntsman's bow well-strung,
And overhead, the quarrel-pouch up-hung
Which round his girth was worn when forth he went
To hunt for venison in the woods of Dent,
Or rob the Sanwith she-wolf of her young.
Ah, since that day of hound and hawk and hood,
Which this stout archer of the Priory knew,
A blight has fallen upon Saint Bega's land;
The rooks can scarcely find a nesting wood,
The steam-mills hoot where once the horn he blew,
And men are slaves in coaly Cumberland.
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