 | Uncollected verses by Francis Thompson |  |
[Somewhere still ye bide among my long-lost Northern faces]
Somewhere still ye bide among my long-lost Northern faces,My heroes of the past, they tell me so!
Somewhere still ye bide in my long-lost Northern places,
But dead to me with youth, long ago.
I mind me of your staunchness as I near the shadowy water,
O Stonewall, and the look of your little fair-haired daughter;
(But the years have done upon you all the unassuagable slaughter)
As the run-stealers flicker to and fro,
To and fro,
O my Monkey and my Stonewall long ago!
| Uncollected verses by Francis Thompson | |