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128 BYGONE SUSSEX. |
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I come, I come, my heart beat high ; The greensward stretches southward still, Soft in the breeze the heath bells sigh ; Up, up, we scale another hill!
A spot where once the eagle towered O'er Albion's green primeval charms, And where the harmless wild-thyme flowered, Did Rome's proud legions pile their arms. In infant's haunts I've dreamed of thee, And where the crystal brook ran by, Marked sands and waves and open sea, And gazed, but with an infant's eye.
'Twas joy to pass the stormy hour, In groves, when childhood knew no more; Increase that joy, tremendous power, Loud let thy world of waters roar. And if the scene reflection drowns, Or draws too strongly raptured tear, I'll change it for these lovely Downs, This calm smooth turf, and worship here.
It will be seen that Sussex has not been
unsung, but it is noteworthy that most of these
poems of places have been written by those " not
to the manor born." |
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