POEMS OF SUSSEX PLACES.
Till they sang a glad refrain, " Praise the Lord."
Breeze of Spring and April shower, Summer's bloom and Autumn's dower, Winter's snow and storms that lour, " Praise the Lord."
Childhood bright with toy and game, Manhood with its lofty aim, Age with bent and tottering frame, " Praise the Lord."
Gladness bids our hearts to praise, Sorrow, too, the song will raise, Death itself for ever says, "Praise the Lord."
Several poems relating to the great struggle between the Saxon and the Normans have already been named under Battle. Thomas Campbell has written " Lines on the Camp Hill, near Hastings."
In the deep blue of eve,
Ere the twinkling of stars had begun,
Or the lark took his leave
Of the skies and the sweet setting sun,
I clambered to yon heights,
Where the Norman encamped him of old, With his bowmen and knights,
And his banner all burnished with gold.