HOME THOUGHTS FROM ABROAD
Oh, to be in England
Now that April ‘s there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!
And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge—
That ‘s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children’s dower
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!
Boadicea's Chariot 
That’s more like it! 😆
🙂
Oh yeash.
Like what..? 😉
Glad you like it though. There are little extracts of poems like that adorning the classroom where I teach in the mornings.
Not like the William Blake suicide pill you posted earlier. 😆
The main man – Robert Browning
Thanks for that, claire. Have a good Easter weekend. It’s a bit cool here in France just now.
Thank you Claire, much better! 😀
No problemo. It’s always very much dependent on mood/state of mind etc etc 😉
Lovely Claire. That poem came to mind the other day. I’m going to relearn it now. I don’t need to be in England, though. We have it all here, and probably better.
It is lovely isn’t it?There is a display of pastoral poetry in one of the classrooms I teach in , and this is among it. There are some wonderful extracts; I will put some more up.