04.10.2008, 12:26
At King Henry's Chapel, Muncaster
Where Esk in curves and coils of moony light
Gleams down the vale and passes to the sea,
They tell how royal Henry once did flee,
A crownless king, from Hexham's bloody fight;
And how rude shepherds, on a summer night,
Found, and conveyed him, where, on loyal knee,
Stout Pennington did pledge his own roof-tree
For safety, till the Red Rose had the right.
If morn had brought to that unhappy king
Vision of stately trees enleaved with gold,
Or half the beauteous calm mine eyes behold,
Sure it had been a sad awakening -
Such reminiscence of his golden state,
And he, discrowned, forsaken, desolate!
Where Esk in curves and coils of moony light
Gleams down the vale and passes to the sea,
They tell how royal Henry once did flee,
A crownless king, from Hexham's bloody fight;
And how rude shepherds, on a summer night,
Found, and conveyed him, where, on loyal knee,
Stout Pennington did pledge his own roof-tree
For safety, till the Red Rose had the right.
If morn had brought to that unhappy king
Vision of stately trees enleaved with gold,
Or half the beauteous calm mine eyes behold,
Sure it had been a sad awakening -
Such reminiscence of his golden state,
And he, discrowned, forsaken, desolate!