SCAWFELL
I stood upon the mountain, whose vast brow
Looks down his four concentrate vales below;
Here Esk smiles coyly thro' his woody glade;
There Wastdale's chaos flings its length of shade;
Next in bright contrast with that gloomy vale,
The life and loveliness of Borrowdale;
And last, that wild and deep and swampy dell,
Where Langdale's summits frown upon Bowfell.
Storm on Scawfell,
T. E. HANKINSON.
