by Alfred Austin
Give me a roof where Wisdom dwells,
Where honeysuckle smiles and smells,
A bleating flock, some lowing kine,
An honest welcome always mine,
A homely draught, a humble meal,
Leisure to live, to think, to feel,
A narrow plot, a prospect wide,
A patch upon the mountain side!
From these my heart you will not wean
For Fashion's tinsel, Splendour's sheen,
The Sceptre's favour, Senate's prize,
No, nor the Empire of your eyes.
Farewell! The Valley be your own!
And I will scale the heights,-alone.
Last updated August 10, 2015