richard mitchley - happy is england - john keats lyrics
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happy is england! i could be content
to see no other verdure than its own;
to feel no other breezes than are blown
through its tall woods with high romances blent:
yet do i sometimes feel a languishment
for skies italian, and an inward groan
to sit upon an alp as on a throne
and half forget what world or worldling meant
happy is england, sweet her artless daughters;
enough their simple loveliness for me
enough their whitest arms in silence clinging:
yet do i often warmly burn to see
beauties of deeper glance, and hear their singing
and float with them about the summer waters
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