The Poetry Corner

Green fields of England! wheresoeer

By Arthur Hugh Clough

Green fields of England! wheresoeer Across this watery waste we fare, Your image at our hearts we bear Green fields of England, everywhere. Sweet eyes in England, I must flee Past where the waves last confines be, Ere your loved smile I cease to see, Sweet eyes in England, dear to me. Dear home in England, safe and fast If but in thee my lot lie cast, The past shall seem a nothing past To thee, dear home, if won at last; Dear home in England, won at last.