CLOUD-GIRDED land, brave land beyond the sea! Land of my father's love! how oft I yearn Toward thy famed ancestral shores to turn, Roaming thy glorious realm in liberty; All English growths would sacred seem to me, From opulent oak to flickering wayside fern; Much from her delicate daisies could I learn, And all her home-bred flowers by lake or lea. But most I dream of Shropshire's meadow grass, Its grazing herds, and sweet hay-scented air; An ancient hall near a slow rivulet's mouth; A church vine-clad; a graveyard glooming south; These are the scenes through which I fain would pass; There lived my sires, whose sacred dust is there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO COMING TO GOD WITHOUT CHRIST by ROBERT HERRICK A POET by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR GOUGAUNE BARRA by JEREMIAH JOSEPH CALLANAN A LOVER FOR DEATH by EDWARD RALPH CHEYNEY TO THE MEMORY OF A POET by EDWIN COULSON CLARK THE BOTHIE OF TOBER-NA-VUOLICH; A LONG VACATION PASTORAL by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH ALICE DU CLOS: OR THE FORKED TONGUE. A BALLAD by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |