All along the white chalk coast
The mist lifts clear.
Wight is glimmering like a ghost.
The ship draws near.
Little inch-wide meadows
Lost so many a day,
The first time I knew you
Was when I turned away.
Island--little island--
Lost so many a year,
Mother of all I leave behind
--_Draw me near!_--
Mother of half the rolling world,
And O, so little and gray,
The first time I found you
Was when I turned away.
_Over yon green water
Sussex lies.
But the slow mists gather
In our eyes.
England, little island
--God, how dear!--
Fold me in your mighty arms,
Draw me near._
Little tawny roofs of home,
Nestling in the gray,
Where the smell of Sussex loam
Blows across the bay ...
Fold me, teach me, draw me close,
Lest in death I say
The first time I loved you
Was when I turned away.