Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/156

Yet envy not our brighter skies
(Ye who from the ancient Home
May not roam),
Soon smitten through
By shafts of glory, our world fainting lies,
Craving the storm ye fain would shun,
While yours, baptised with power,
Renews her strength and beauty: blessed dower
After brief trial hour!
And when the blossomed hawthorns throw
On emerald grass their showers of fragrant snow;
When lark, and thrush, and blackbird sing
All the splendour of the Spring,
All the miracle of the living,
And the nightingale's thanksgiving
Carries through the moonlit night
Every note of day's delight,
In so intense an ecstasy,
Such a rain
Of rapture as to mortal brain
Must needs appear akin to pain——
England! if now from every shore
Thy sons return in thought once more
To hear the Christmas-bells waken thy woodlands hoar,
What then shall be
Their passionate desire for thee—
To kiss thy daisy-sandalled feet,
And their undying love for thee and thine repeat!

Rev. A. Vine Hall.