60 THE HONEYSUCKLE. 



England, isle of free and brave, 

 Circled by the Atlantic wave I 

 Though we seek the fairest land 

 That the south wind ever fann'd, 

 Yet we cannot hope to see 

 Homes so holy as in thee. 



As the tortoise turns its head 

 Towards its native ocean-bed, 

 Howsoever far it be 

 From its own beloved sea, 

 Thus, dear Albion, evermore 

 Do we turn to seek thy shore ! 



