A Troopship 1914

Farewell this land of my Lowly birth,

All Hearts and Beauty of treasured worth,

Would again will I see your Meadows of Gold;

The flowing Brooks in Poetry told

In dancing Verse as Coleridge knew,

Of this blessed Isle we hold as true.

With leafy lanes unwinding free,

Through the tumbling Hills to the Guardian Sea ,

This Placid Sky over Peaceful Minds,

Wherein good faith and humour find,

All Hearts of Oak by Nature bred;

From Freedom's Cradle Centuries fed.

Farewell the Hamlets and Blackened Towns,

The Ancient Castles by Rolling Downs,

Village Fairs under August Sun,

Where Childhood Memories are forged and spun.

And England's Daughters gild the days,

With graceful looks and Motherly ways;

But Patience must the Sweethearts speak,

The Afflicted Man - If - next we meet.

So hope once more that age-old sight,

That welcomed Sailors from the fight,

The Ivory Cliffs then Home is made;

And never more this Mad Charade.