Verse > Anthologies > T. H. Ward, ed. > The English Poets > Vol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke
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Thomas Humphry Ward, ed.  The English Poets.  1880–1918.
Vol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke
 
Extract from Tamerton Church-Tower
By Coventry Patmore (1823–1896)
 
(IV. 7 and 8)

I MOUNTED, now, my patient nag,
  And scaled the easy steep;
And soon beheld the quiet flag
  On Lanson’s solemn Keep.
And now, whenas the waking lights        5
  Bespake the valley’d Town,
A child o’ertook me, on the heights,
  In cap and russet gown.
It was an alms-taught scholar trim,
  Who, on her happy way,        10
Sang to herself the morrow’s hymn;
  For this was Saturday.
“Saint Stephen, stoned, nor grieved nor groan’d:
  ’Twas all for his good gain;
For Christ him blest, till he confess’d        15
  A sweet content in pain.
“Then Christ His cross is no way loss,
  But even a present boon:
Of His dear blood fair shines a flood
  On heaven’s eternal noon.”        20
My sight, once more, was dim for her
  Who slept beneath the sea,
As on I sped, without the spur,
  By homestead, heath, and lea.
O’erhead the perfect moon kept pace,        25
  In meek and brilliant power,
And lit, ere long, the eastern face
  Of Tamerton Church-tower.
 
 
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