WHY will your mind for ever go To meads in sunny Greece? Our song-birds have as fine a flow, Our sheep as fair a fleece; Among our hills the honey-bee, And in the leaning pear— I tell you there is Arcady In leafy Warwickshire. Our maids can match Diana's shape, And thread the woodland way; They sing, and from the trees escape Birds musical as they: As Orpheus once Eurydice, The thrush he draws my dear— I tell you there is Arcady In leafy Warwickshire. Our English fountains are not mute, And Fancy's ear may catch The mellow airs of pipe and flute Where blushing maidens snatch The hasty garb lest shepherds see Their bosoms soft and clear— I tell you there is Arcady In leafy Warwickshire. Apollo's in the winding lane! And Cupid with his smile Comes splendidly across the plain To walk with us a mile: The milkmaid's kiss, the country peace Delight us living here, Content to barter all of Greece For leafy Warwickshire! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SQUIRE BOWLING GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE HARP by RALPH WALDO EMERSON DAYBREAK by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW LOST AND FOUND by GEORGE MACDONALD AN ORIGINAL THOUGHT by MARIA ABDY |