Though I woe born a Londoner, And bred in, Glouceatorahire, 1 walked in Hel yoare ago With friends whit attire: And T remember how my sou Drank wine aa pure a fire, And whoo T stand by Charing Crom can forget to hear The era of all those smoking wheels, When those cold fiuten an lea Pipo wi such fury down the street, My anda grow moist with fear. hall la Bloomsbury No more I dare to trod, For all the stone men shout at mie, And swear they are not dead Anil once T touched a. broken get And know that maeblo. bled, But when T walk in Athens town 'That arima la dea and ann Porverse, think of Land then 'Where' God's brave work is done And "with what sweep int Wostoninater The raylesy waters ran, ponder how from Attio aoed There grow an English tree, How Byron ilka Wighting country troy And Swinburne rom Shlloy's took li The, kisa of Pooley.
And hile oar posts choated Pan Tack to [Groat Vere desk, And searching hour on hoar Found old gardens, where the wise May ind Spartan' flower.
When Igo. doyen to Glouccater Lance My friends ar dear and blind Post hey turn their foolish eyes The Maenada Anil whoa T hear They only hear the wind, Mayo T not cha amd the fluting Pan Through Cranlan's oboe troca? Have T not sat on Puinewick Till With a nymph upon my. knees, Aad she 20 rosy aa, the dawn, And naked aa Uso bronze?
But whea I Tio in Grecian folds, Smothered in. aophodel Or climb Ue blue ud aero ills in. woods Usat With such, hot coa of the. South Ag mariners ight sell Then my heart bares, To tania of gliterinig rain, fields beneath low-dowded. oki New-widowed of their grain, And Autimn Leaves like blood sad gold That strew a Gloucester ans.
Oh wet! T know sw And well T low TF then, When T with starry ladn Tut ah, for home again Was T'not bred in Gloncesterth One of the Engtiehmon?
Fromi "The Golden Journey to
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.