Locksley Hall by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Locksley Hall by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Complete Text

COMRADES, leave me here a little, while as yet ’tis early morn:
Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle horn.
’Tis the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call,
Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall;
Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts,

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And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts. Continue reading