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

130 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.