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144
TO ENGLAND
Then poor, indeed, though vast our rule supernal,
Who magnify the ill we might redeem;
Missing the glory of the hope eternal—
The godlike, human dream!
To solace life, there blooms on earth a flower
Whose deathless name is Love. Of its increase
Are born compassion, freedom, beauty, power;
And of its gift is peace.
O Sister Lands, thrice blest! though wisdom guide us,
Yet in our hearts may love perfected lie—
Deep as the ocean that cannot divide us,
Kind as the arching sky!
