 | The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland |  |
31
April 23
How shall we praise thee, who art England's praiseAnd with the soul of her soul most accords,
So that she vaunteth to the end of days
England and Shakespeare high, fast-wedded words?
O Royal thou, that spake us a new earth
And new fair heavens, and a proud new sea,
Greener is April, boasting of thy birth,
More blossom'd May, because she swaddled thee!
Before thy wisdom humbly stand the wise,
Judged of thy goodness, Virtue hath no cause,
Whoever mounts, a feeble feather tries
By thy great pinion; and except thou pause,
The sweetest singer falters in his scale—
Eagle, and Lark, and Swan, and Nightingale!
| The Collected Poems of T. W. H. Crosland | |