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...SIXTEEN DEAD MEN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS THE TASK: BOOK 4. THE WINTER EVENING by WILLIAM COWPER CHANSON INNOCENTE: 2, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS SONNET: 29 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE GOLDEN HILL by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG SPRING AND WINTER by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |