 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
285
GUERNSEY.
Guernsey! to me and in my partial eyesThou art a holy and enchanted isle,
Where I would live long years, and muse the while
On ancient thoughts and solemn memories,
Quickening the tender tear or pensive smile;
Guernsey!—for nearly thrice a hundred years
Home of my fathers; refuge from their fears
And haven to their hope,—when long of yore
Fleeing Imperial Charles and bloody Rome,
Protestant martyrs, to thy seagirt shore
They came to seek a temple and a home,
And found thee generous,—I their son would pour
My heartfull all of praise and thanks to thee,
Island of welcomes,—friendly, frank, and free!
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |