Reely's Poetry Blog

Oh! to be in England
Now that April's there.
And whoever wakes in England
Sees some morning in despair;
There 's a horrible fog i' the heart o' the town,
And the greasy pavement is damp and brown,
While the rain-drop falls from the laden bough
In England now!

And after April when May follows,
How foolish seem the returning swallows.
Hark! how the east wind sweeps along the street,
And how we give one universal sneeze !
The hapless lambs at thought of mint-sauce bleat,
And ducks are conscious of the coming peas.

Lest you should think the Spring is really present,
A biting frost will come to make things pleasant;
And though the reckless flowers begin to blow,
They'd better far have nestled down below;
An English Spring sets men and women frowning,
Despite the rhapsodies of Robert Browning.

and now for Robert Browning's 'rhapsodies' ...

HOME THOUGHTS, FROM ABROAD

Oh to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England - now!

And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops - at the bent spray's edge -
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
- Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower