Where teeming cities on its brink
Crowd in on Sherwood of to-day.
But still each year the outlaw-king,
By Normanton and Perlethorpe spire,
Has watched the beeches' emerald fire
Flare upward in the leaping spring;
Each heather-time has found his own
Eyrie of rest where Higger Tor
Shimmers in purple as before
King Cœur-de-Lion held his throne.