Bells and Pomegranates, Second Series/Home-Thoughts, from Abroad
HOME-THOUGHTS, FROM ABROAD.
I.Oh, to be in EnglandNow that April's there,And who wakes in EnglandSees, some morning, unaware,That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheafRound the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,While the chaffinch sings on the orchard boughIn England—now!
And after April, when May follows,And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows—Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedgeLeans to the field and scatters on the cloverBlossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge—That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice overLest you should think he never could recaptureThe first fine careless rapture!And though the fields are rough with hoary dew,All will be gay when noontide wakes anewThe buttercups, the little children's dower,—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!
II.Here's to Nelson's memory!'Tis the second time that I, at sea,Right off Cape Trafalgar here,Have drunk it deep in British beer: Nelson for ever—any timeAm I his to command in prose or rhyme!Give me of Nelson only a touch,And I guard it, be it little or much;Here's one the Captain gives, and soDown at the word, by George, shall it go!He says that at Greenwich they show the beholderNelson's coat, "still with tar on the shoulder,"For he used to lean with one shoulder digging,"Jigging, as it were, and zig-zag-zigging,"Up against the mizen rigging!"
III.Nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the north-west died away;Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;Bluish mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;In the dimmest north-east distance, dawned Gibraltar grand and gray;"Here and here did England help me,—how can I help England?"—say,Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,Yonder where Jove's planet rises silent over Africa.