 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
10
BALFOUR IN ORKNEY.
When to the storm-historic OrcadesThe wanderer comes, he marvels to find there
A stately palace, towering new and fair,
Bedded in flowers, though unbanked by trees,
A feudal dream uprisen from the seas:
And when his wonder asks,—Whose magic rare
Hath wrought this bright creation?—men reply,
Balfour's of Balfour: large in mind and heart,
Not only doth his duteous care reclaim
All Shapinsay to new fertility,
But to his brother men a brother's part
Doing, in always doing good,—his fame
Is to have raised an Orcade Arcady,
Rich in the gems of Nature as of Art.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |