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Valete

Tennyson and other Memorial Poems by H. D. Rawnsley
 

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Somersby.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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15

Somersby.

Here was the haunt of those three nightingales,
Whose voices soothed an England of unrest
Thro' changeful seasons. From the circling crest
Of yonder hill they saw the far-off sails
Shine as great Hingvar's shone. The viking tales
Of that fierce worm that all the wold possest
Rang in their ears, and knights that dared their best
Knelt in near churches clad with chain and scales.
And here they mixed with peasants, learned the lore
Of peaceful men who tend the flock and wain,
Here, book in hand, they wandered thro' the grove,
But most they loved beside the beck to rove,
The brook that murmured prose toward the plain,
But, since they sang, sings on for evermore.

Hingvar and Hubba's invasion peopled this part of Lincolnshire with Danes, A.D. 866.

The Dragon of ‘Walmsgate’ or ‘Ormsby,’ a village near Somersby, was fabled to have laid waste the neighbouring wold.

It is still remembered in the village how the young boy Tennysons were nearly always seen with a book in their hands as they wandered down the Somersby lanes.