Page:Late lyrics and earlier, with many other verses (IA latelyricsearlie00hardiala).pdf/136

108 Stratford-on-Avon— Poesy-paven— I'll find a haven There, somehow!— Nay—I'm but caught of Dreams long thought of, The Swan knows nought of His Avon now!

What shall it be, then, I go to see, then, Under the plea, then, Of votary? I'll go to Lakeland, Lakeland, Lakeland, Certainly Lakeland Let it be.

But—why to that place, That place, that place, Such a hard come-at place Need I fare? When its bard cheers no more, Loves no more, fears no more, Sees no more, hears no more Anything there!

Ah, there is Scotland, Burns's Scotland, And Waverley's. To what land Better can I hie?—