The stately homes of England!
  How beautiful they stand,
  Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
  O'er all the pleasant land!
  The deer across their greensward bound
  Through shade and sunny gleam,
  And the swan glides past them with the sound
  Of some rejoicing stream.

  The merry homes of England!
  Around their hearths by night
  What gladsome looks of household love
  Meet in the ruddy light!
  There woman's voice flows forth in song,
  Or childish tale is told,
  Or lips move tunefully along
  Some glorious page of old.

  The blessèd homes of England!
  How softly on their bowers
  Is laid the holy quietness
  That breathes from Sabbath hours!
  Solemn, yet sweet, the church-bell's chime
  Floats through their woods at morn;
  All other sounds, in that still time,
  Of breeze and leaf are born.

  The cottage homes of England!
  By thousands on her plains,
  They are smiling o'er the silvery brooks,
  And round the hamlets' fanes.
  Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
  Each from its nook of leaves;
  And fearless there the lowly sleep,
  As the bird beneath their eaves.

  The free, fair homes of England!
  Long, long, in hut and hall
  May hearts of native proof be reared
  To guard each hallowed wall!
  And green forever be the groves,
  And bright the flowery sod,
  Where first the child's glad spirit loves
  Its country and its God!