Here, where the vine and fig bask hand in hand, <br />And the hot lizard lies along the wall, <br />Blinded I shrink where cypress shadows fall, <br />And gaze upon the far-off mountains bland: <br />Then down the dusty track Lorenzo planned <br />Watch the slow oxen oscillating crawl <br />Sleek in the sultry glare, and feel withal <br />Half alien still in a familiar land. <br />But when from out the stone-pine slopes that rise <br />In the clear ether, black against the blue, <br />The cuckoo suddenly calls, I close mine eyes <br />In visionary rapture, think of you, <br />Hear the home-music of your Kentish skies, <br />And dream that I am drenched with English dew.<br /><br />Alfred Austin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/here-where-the-vine-and-fig-bask-hand-in-hand/
