Cross Brow, Ambleside

My smallest daughter had wondered how
Her dear home came by its name, " Cross Brow":
Her home mid the meres, that loveliest seem,
In their autumn trance and their winter dream:
Her home at the feet of the mountains high,
That have entanglements with the sky.

So I told her how, in a time half known
And half forgotten, a cross of stone,
'Twixt field and fellside, here had stood —
More frail than a certain Cross of Wood;
And how sweet souls that fared this way
May have halted before it to kneel and pray.

It is seen no longer, from dale or hill:
'Tis the Cross of Wood that is lasting still!
But here, in a world of pain and loss,
Where each must carry his destined cross,
A frolicsome child remembers now
Why the house she romps in is called Cross Brow,
Though little indeed Life's gleeful morn
Can know of the Brow that was crowned with thorn.
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