Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Northumberland by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Northumberland

    By Algernon Charles Swinburne



    Between our eastward and our westward sea
    The narrowing strand
    Clasps close the noblest shore fame holds in fee
    Even here where English birth seals all men free
    Northumberland.
    The sea-mists meet across it when the snow
    Clothes moor and fell,
    And bid their true-born hearts who love it glow
    For joy that none less nobly born may know
    What love knows well.
    The splendour and the strength of storm and fight
    Sustain the song
    That filled our fathers' hearts with joy to smite,
    To live, to love, to lay down life that right
    Might tread down wrong.
    They warred, they sang, they triumphed, and they passed,
    And left us glad
    Here to be born, their sons, whose hearts hold fast
    The proud old love no change can overcast,
    No chance leave sad.
    None save our northmen ever, none but we,
    Met, pledged, or fought
    Such foes and friends as Scotland and the sea
    With heart so high and equal, strong in glee
    And stern in thought.
    Thought, fed from time's memorial springs with pride,
    Made strong as fire
    Their hearts who hurled the foe down Flodden side,
    And hers who rode the waves none else durst ride
    None save her sire.
    O land beloved, where nought of legend's dream
    Outshines the truth,
    Where Joyous Gard, closed round with clouds that gleam
    For them that know thee not, can scarce but seem
    Too sweet for sooth,
    Thy sons forget not, nor shall fame forget,
    The deed there done
    Before the walls whose fabled fame is yet
    A light too sweet and strong to rise and set
    With moon and sun.
    Song bright as flash of swords or oars that shine
    Through fight or foam
    Stirs yet the blood thou hast given thy sons like wine
    To hail in each bright ballad hailed as thine
    One heart, one home.
    Our Collingwood, though Nelson be not ours,
    By him shall stand
    Immortal, till those waifs of oldworld hours,
    Forgotten, leave uncrowned with bays and flowers
    Northumberland.



Extra Info:
From "A Channel Passage and Other Poems"


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