 | Poems |  |
THE PLEASANT FIELDS OF KENT.
AN EMIGRANT SONG.
O Kent's a pleasant country, and how heavy is his heart
Who from her breezy hills and downs and meadows must depart,
Who across the heaving ocean to seek a home is sent
Far far from dear old England and the pleasant fields of Kent.
Who from her breezy hills and downs and meadows must depart,
Who across the heaving ocean to seek a home is sent
Far far from dear old England and the pleasant fields of Kent.
Fair Surrey, it has grassy hills, and Berkshire's lanes are green,
But of all the counties England holds, our Kent it is the queen;
And never one of all her sons far from her ever went
Without a heavy heart to leave the pleasant fields of Kent.
But of all the counties England holds, our Kent it is the queen;
And never one of all her sons far from her ever went
Without a heavy heart to leave the pleasant fields of Kent.
Green Maidstone, it has orchards sweet, and Farleigh it has hops,
And grassy fields by Medway's banks full many a white sheep crops;
But from Maidstone's blooming orchards, and from Farleigh's hop-fields sent,
I shall see no more the Medway flow through the green fields of Kent!
And grassy fields by Medway's banks full many a white sheep crops;
But from Maidstone's blooming orchards, and from Farleigh's hop-fields sent,
I shall see no more the Medway flow through the green fields of Kent!
O Lenham, it has pleasant woods! dear to my heart are they,
For there I've nutted, when a boy, full many an autumn day;
But nevermore a day by me will in Lenham's woods be spent,
For I am sailing o'er the sea, far from the woods of Kent!
For there I've nutted, when a boy, full many an autumn day;
But nevermore a day by me will in Lenham's woods be spent,
For I am sailing o'er the sea, far from the woods of Kent!
323
How pleasant are the Medway's banks—its waters flowing clear,
And the cottage by its grassy side, where I dwelt for many a year;
But on far Australia's streamless plains my last years must be spent,
Far from the Medway's pleasant side, and the winding streams of Kent.
And the cottage by its grassy side, where I dwelt for many a year;
But on far Australia's streamless plains my last years must be spent,
Far from the Medway's pleasant side, and the winding streams of Kent.
O Kent, the sigh is on my lip, the tear is in my eye,
To think no more my longing eyes will see you ere I die;
Yet, with brave heart in my new land, I'll strive to win content,
But often will my thoughts be yours, O my own pleasant Kent.
To think no more my longing eyes will see you ere I die;
Yet, with brave heart in my new land, I'll strive to win content,
But often will my thoughts be yours, O my own pleasant Kent.
| Poems | |