POETRY.
NORFOLK.
(A Study in County Characteristics) NORFOLK, although no morntain ranges Girdle your plains with a bastioned height, Yet is your landscape rich in changes, Filling the eye with delight- Heathclad uplands and lonely dingles,
Slow streams stealing through level meads, Flats where the marsh with the ocean mingles, Meres close guarded by sentinel reeds.
Never a mile but some church-tower hoary Stands for a witness, massive and tall, How men furthered God's greater glory—. Blakeney and Cley and Sall.
Never a village but in its borders Signs of a stormy past remain, Walls that were manned by Saxon warders, Barrows that guard the bones of the Dane.
Deep in your heart Rome left her traces, • Normans held your manors in fee, Italy lent you her Southern graces, Dutchmen bridled your sea.
Flemings wove you their silks and woollens, Romany magic still to you clings, And the fairest daughter of all the Bullens Blent your blood with that of your Kings.
Yours are the truest names in England—. Overy Staithe and Icknield Way, Waveney River, Ringmere, and Ringland, Wymondham and Wormegay.
Land of windmills and brown-winged wherries Gliding along with the gait of queens; Land of the Broads, the dykes, and the ferries, Land of the Sounds, the Brecks, the Denes.
Gipsy lore, the heart of his stories, Borrow gleaned in his Norwich home.
Broadland, aflame with sunset glories, Fired the vision of Crome.
Tombland's echo throughout the pages Of Browne like a stately Requiem runs; Nelson, "a name to resound for ages," Crowns the roll of your hero sons.
C. L. G.
Previous page
