I have seen the Cliffs of Dover And the White Horse on the Hill; I have walked the lanes, a rover; I have dreamed beside the rill: I have known the fields awaking To the gentle touch of Spring; The joy of morning breaking, And the peace your twilights bring.But I long for a sight of the pines, and the blue shadows under;For the sweet-smelling gums, and the throbbing of African air;For the sun and the sand, and the sound of the surf's ceaseless thunder,The height, and the breadth and the depth, and the nakedness there!
I have visited your cities Where the unregenerate dwell; I have trilled the ploughman's ditties To the mill-wheel and the well. I have heard the poised lark's singing To the blue of summer skies; The whirr of pheasants winging, And the crash when grouse arise.But I sigh for the heat of the veldt, and the cool-flowing river;For the crack of the trek-whip, the shimmer of dust-laden noon;For the day sudden dying; the croak of the frogs, and the shiverOf tropical night, and the stars, and the low hanging moon.
I have listen'd in the gloaming To your poets' tales of old; I know, when I am roaming That I walk on hallowed mould. I have lived and fought among you And I trow your hearts are steel; That the nations who deride you Shall, like dogs, be brought to heel.But I pine for the roar of the lion on the edge of the clearing;For the rustle of grass snake; the birds' flashing wing in the heath;For the sun shrivelled peaks of the mountains to blue heaven rearing;The limitless outlook, the space, and the freedom beneath.
