Absence

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Absence
written by John Drinkwater
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This was a fair land
    For the young soul to find,
Whose orchards are renewed
    And blossom in the mind.
    Far wave, far heaven, far hill,
    I dream of England still.

And now this year's primrose
    Shines under last year's leaves.
The swallow searches out
    Accustomed eaves;
    Far wave, far heaven, far hill,
    I dream of England still.

Though fresh devices come,
    Yet is my custom true;
There my vocation is,
    That was my cradle too.
    Far wave, far heaven, far hill,
    I dream of England still.

SemiPD-icon.png This work is in the public domain in countries where the copyright term is the author's life plus 70 years or less.