XXI.
Ah better far on Albion’s soil to tread
The verdurous meadow or the breezy hill,
For peaceful toil or sportful wandering spread,
In pastoral loveliness unrivalled still;
Where blend sweet lane and slope with murmuring rill,
Hedgerow, and vocal grove, and village green,
And gardens fair and homesteads bright which fill
True household gods and beauty,—there, I ween,
Alone ’neath tempering clouds in full perfection seen.