Herons
[We are indebted to Mr. E. F. Benson for permission to print this hitherto unpublished poem by his father, the former Archbishop of Canterbury. It was written on a reading party in the Lakes when Dr. Benson was an undergraduate at Trinity, Cambridge, about 1850.]
ONE floating o'er the gorge, and one Down-dropping o'er the Scar.
And one, wide-oaring o'er the wood The Herons come from far, From lonely glens where they had plied All day their feasts and war.
Ah goodly lords of a goodly land, How calm they fold the wing : How lordly, beak on bosom couch'd To their pine-hung eyrie swing, And stand to see the sun go down Each like a lovely King.