 | Anyta and other poems |  |
167
TO ENGLAND.
England, we are proud to be thy eldest child,Thankful to God for the rich heritage
Which thou, ere we were born, from age to age
With thoughts and deeds of mightiest men up-piled,
Too great within thy bounds to be inisled,
And thence,—wide wafted on the undying page,
Feeding the soul of hero and of sage
In every Christian land,—on us have smiled,
Through privilege of tongue, a daily cheer,
So warmly kindred to our Saxon hearts,
That we, though sundered from thee, parent dear,
Have kept our love and reverence through all smarts,
And now stride with thee in one grand career,
Sowing the Earth with freedom and with arts.
October, 1860.
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