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Beaulieu
by Buckler’s Hard on the Solent
Where Nelson’s fleets were bourn on Beaulieu’s waters
This Sunday’s spring tide beauty all abounds;
Mere memories trace his fortitude, while laughter
Of bobbing buoys make chuckling tidal sounds;
Once stalwart fortress-fleets with Agamemnon
Passaged down the Solent to the seas,
Their hearts of oak for beam, supporting cannon,
Inherited the strength of ancient trees;
Amingling raucous gulls and lingering after
Are finer tunes that pierce the Solent breeze!
The waders’ bell-songs, dew-like, soft as water
Drift in their knells across the estuary;
But all ‘Trafalgars’ rest in memories muse,
Their latent strengths expired on distant seas;
Expanding still those girths of oaks and yews
And same the force and vesture of their breeze!