The
Sceptre'd Isle
- Stuart Hamill -
I
know not why I love so much this England
Or
why I yearn to tread the leafy lanes,
Or
walk across the rolling hills in Devon
To
feel the soft caress of Autumn rains.
I
know not why I love the sight of castles
Bosomed
high in tufted trees, as Milton wrote,
Or
why I love to stroll the scented lakelands
Where
magic mists forever seem afloat.
I
know not why I like the bustle of High Holborn,
And
potted pigeon pie and Cheshire Cheese,
Or
why I like to stand upon the headlands
To
hark the whispered music of the seas.
I
gladly toast the cobbles of Clovelly,
To
Chester's ivied walls I raise a glass,
The
silken lawns of Cliveden bow in beauty
In
time to let the sylvan river pass.
I
know not why the very name of England
Bestirs
a vibrance deep within my hide,
Or
why the scent of gorse and heather
Perfumes
an image richly steeped in pride.
There
is a spot that is forever England
Though
I am far away and wide apart,
A
secret spot that is forever England
Deep
within the longing of my heart.