LET others praise, as fancy wills, Berlin beneath her trees, Or Rome upon her seven hills, Or Venice by her seas; Stamboul by double tides embraced, Or green Damascus in the waste. For me there's nought I would not leave For the good Devon land, Whose orchards down the echoing cleeve Bedewed with spray-drift stand, And hardly bear the red fruit up That shall be next year's cider-cup. You too, my friend, may wisely mark How clear skies follow rain, And lingering in your own green park Or drilled on Laffan's Plain, Forget not with the festal bowl To soothe at times your weary soul. When Drake must bid to Plymouth Hoe Good-bye for many a day, And some were sad that feared to go, And some that dared not stay, Be sure he bade them broach the best And raised his tankard with the rest. "Drake's luck to all that sail with Drake For promised lands of gold! Brave lads, whatever storms may break, We've weathered worse of old! To-night the loving-cup we'll drain, To-morrow for the Spanish Main!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEEDLING by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP by HEINRICH HOFFMANN THE LEADEN-EYED by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY LAMENT OF THE MASTER ERSKINE by ALEXANDER SCOTT (1520-1590) PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 30. AL-HADIL by EDWIN ARNOLD THE REPLY OF Q. HORATIUS FLACCUS TO A ROMAN 'ROUND-ROBIN' by ALFRED AUSTIN |