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BOHEME, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Instead of fields in blossom-this grey rain!
Last Line: With all our conquering visions ranged below.
Subject(s): Bohemian Forest, Europe; Fields; Spain; Pastures; Meadows; Leas

INSTEAD of fields in blossom—this grey rain!
Instead of forests—this unworthy street!
Instead of golden gardens and green wheat—
A squalid café in a narrow lane!

What of the castles that we built in Spain,
The trusted honour of our ancient lands,
Our citadels of towers not raised with hands,
Oh! have they crumbled back to dream again?

Ah! no!—the blazing pinacles arise
Awaiting us in undismayed delight,
And round this little corner of Soho,

One morning we shall see, without surprise,
A royal banner floating into sight,
With all our conquering visions ranged below.

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