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First poems

THE REALM

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England hath many an honest hand, Or bare or silken gloved: But what is there within the land That she should be so well beloved? And she hath many an haughty town That liveth in her law, But fairer is the linnet brown, That singeth in the leafy shaw. And she hath many a nobleman, Ay, many, and to spare! But better is the plowman Dan, Though that he drive the earthy share: For towns and noblemen are made By silly fortune’s dole, But birds, and they who wield the spade, They are green England’s singing soul. 1915.

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