Page:The Five Nations.djvu/57

Rh We sail o' nights to England

And join our smiling Boards;

Our wives go in with Viscounts

And our daughters dance with Lords.

But behind our princely doings,

And behind each coup we make,

"We feel there's Something Waiting,

And—we meet It when we wake.

Ah God! One sniff of England—

To greet our flesh and blood—

To hear the hansoms slurring

Once more through London mud!

Our towns of wasted honour—

Our streets of lost delight!

How stands the old Lord Warden?

Are Dover's cliffs still white?