Been touched with love and tears
By English minstrels down a thousand years.
And now that Sherwood Forest calls you home
Over the furrows of the ocean foam,
Take message from this people to your own—
To England, with her scented hawthorns blown,
And all her skylarks in a rapture-pain
Sprinkling the happy fields with lyric rain.
Tell her that, lordlier than her cliffs and towers,