 | Lays of Leisure Hours |  |
493
THE RETURN TO ENGLAND.
White Cliffs of England! there ye stand,
Like Angel-watchers round
The one beloved and beauteous Land,
Our Hearts' own Holy ground.
Like Angel-watchers round
The one beloved and beauteous Land,
Our Hearts' own Holy ground.
White Cliffs of England! robed in light,
Your precious charge ye hold,
Dazzling the gazer's gladdened sight,
Now topped with Sunlight's gold.
Your precious charge ye hold,
Dazzling the gazer's gladdened sight,
Now topped with Sunlight's gold.
White Cliffs of England!—Rocks of Home!
I hail your sacred heights—
Crowns ye the Sky like some bright dome
That loveth what it lights!
I hail your sacred heights—
Crowns ye the Sky like some bright dome
That loveth what it lights!
494
White Cliffs of England!—Rocks of Home!
I greet you with Love's tears,
To ye shall slave and stranger come
To count auspicious years.
I greet you with Love's tears,
To ye shall slave and stranger come
To count auspicious years.
Cliffs of my Country's glorious shores!
Her Ocean bathes your base—
And forth its mighty challenge roars,
That echoeth strong through Space!
Her Ocean bathes your base—
And forth its mighty challenge roars,
That echoeth strong through Space!
Cliffs of my Country! do ye stand
Round Paradise restored—
A white-robed Guardian Angel band,
Without the threatening sword?—
Round Paradise restored—
A white-robed Guardian Angel band,
Without the threatening sword?—
White Cliffs of England! ye might seem
That Heavenly Host sublime
Of Cherubim—while thus ye gleam—
To shadow forth to Time!
That Heavenly Host sublime
Of Cherubim—while thus ye gleam—
To shadow forth to Time!
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