KING'S CLIFF

 

KING’S CLIFF

By the flowing, bubbling Tees

On gentle stroll for walker’s ease

At the end the head is raised

A striking sight to be appraised

This wall so strong with turret fierce

A battlement no one could pierce

Why were you built up so great?

Dwelt up there some potentate?

The briefest climb if legs are stiff

Will bring you out to that King’s Cliff

The name alone is eloquent

Of deepest past most redolent

Speaks to me of England’s dawn

A land from seven nations born

Old Chronicle has tale most dread

Seems in thee much blood was shed

Yet Domesday Book does wholly fail

On thy past to lift the veil

Your origins are lost to mist

Not easy placed in any list

Seat of Edwin, one of three

Who set these lands from pagans free

Beyond that the past is barred

Your deeper secrets fiercely guard

Though Time on thee has left no glyph

Still treasured is our Coniscliffe 

 

 

 

 

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