MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. THE HOMES OF ENGLAND. Where's the coward that would not dare THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, Marmion. O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound And the swan glides past them with the sound The merry Homes of England! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet, in the ruddy light! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told, Or lips move tunefully along The blessed Homes of England! Is laid the holy quietness That breathes from Sabbath-hours! Solemn, yet sweet, the church-bell's chime Floats thro' their woods at morn ; All other sounds, in that still time, The Cottage Homes of England! By thousands on her plains, They are smiling o'er the silvery brooks, And round the hamlet-fanes. Thro' glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free, fair Homes of England! May hearts of native proof be rear'd green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God !* |