Home-thoughts, from Abroad.

Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England—now!

And after April, when May follows, And the white-throat builds, And all, though how the time flew!— The birds will be singing When all is done, And the fruit will be ripened, And the grain will be golden! It is a lovely thing To be in England!

• Robert Browning