In Residence

42 A REFRAIN OF A FAR COUNTRY Of fire-crowned waves of foaming jet That England rules with iron feet— The England we may not forget Where Love has chosen our retreat. The beeches wave, the poplar dips ; I know the breeze is here at last ; I see the dainty-masted ships Leap like young fawns beneath the blast : The water beats the shingle fast As if its heart with passion beat, And the sweet hour of sleep is past Where Love has chosen our retreat. The moon is up; the star-sky dawns ; My lover turns a ruby lip: There gather nymphs, and eager fauns To watch us play ; the shadows slip, And sylph and fountain-fairy dip Between the leaves, to scent the sweet Perfume of kisses, when we clip, Where Love has chosen our retreat. ENVOI Princess, the fishing-boats are free, Whose brown sails kiss the zephyrs fleet. Come to my arms beyond the sea Where Love has chosen our retreat!