The English soil! - 'tis hallowed ground: Its restless children roam The world, but they have never found So dear a land as home; Their passion for its hills and downs Nor space nor time can spoil;...
Often, when the sun is sinking O'er the mountain's glowing crest, When the earth and heaven are linking In that bond of peaceful rest; Then, the weary city spurning,...
E'en the fair orb on which I gaze Suggests thy radiance by its rays: That silvery, soft, and dreamy light, So soft, and yet so beauteous bright, Falling in glowing tints so faint, -...
The purple lilac with the dark green leaves A subtle perfume spreads o'er fields wherein The meadow-lark with clear full singing cleaves The choral air. The rossignols begin...
Is our renown'd Dominion then so small As not to hold this new inhabitant? Or are her means so pitiably scant As not to yield a livelihood to all? Or are we lesser men, foredoom'd to thrall?...
NOTE. - The following is an attempt to render in verse the passionate words of a young officer in the Indian service, who had fallen a prey to the ravages of the fever.
Why should we leave the soil our fathers cleared, And lifelong tilled with patient, loving hands? Why should we leave the homes our fathers reared, And seek strange dwellings in unhallowed lands?...