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 | The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood |  |
372
THE FLOWER
Alone, across a foreign plain,
The Exile slowly wanders,
And on his Isle beyond the main
With sadden'd spirit ponders.
The Exile slowly wanders,
And on his Isle beyond the main
With sadden'd spirit ponders.
This lovely Isle beyond the sea,
With all its household treasures;
Its cottage homes, its merry birds,
And all its rural pleasures:
With all its household treasures;
Its cottage homes, its merry birds,
And all its rural pleasures:
Its leafy woods, its shady vales,
Its moors, and purple heather;
Its verdant fields bedeck'd with stars
His childhood loves to gather:
Its moors, and purple heather;
Its verdant fields bedeck'd with stars
His childhood loves to gather:
When lo! he starts, with glad surprise,
Home-joys come rushing o'er him,
For ‘modest, wee, and crimson-tipp'd,’
He spies the flower before him!
Home-joys come rushing o'er him,
For ‘modest, wee, and crimson-tipp'd,’
He spies the flower before him!
With eager haste he stoops him down,
His eyes with moisture hazy,
And as he plucks the simple bloom,
He murmurs, ‘Lawk-a-daisy!’
His eyes with moisture hazy,
And as he plucks the simple bloom,
He murmurs, ‘Lawk-a-daisy!’
| The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood | |