Distant View Of England From The Sea

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Yes! from mine eyes the tears unbidden start,
  As thee, my country, and the long-lost sight
  Of thy own cliffs, that lift their summits white
  Above the wave, once more my beating heart
  With eager hope and filial transport hails!
  Scenes of my youth, reviving gales ye bring,
  As when erewhile the tuneful morn of spring
  Joyous awoke amidst your hawthorn vales,
  And filled with fragrance every village lane:
  Fled are those hours, and all the joys they gave!
  Yet still I gaze, and count each rising wave
  That bears me nearer to my home again;
  If haply, 'mid those woods and vales so fair,
  Stranger to Peace, I yet may meet her there.

© William Lisle Bowles