Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/354

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RUNNIMEDE.
341


Away, away, ye sombre thoughts!
    Avaunt, ye spectres drear;
Too long your sable wing ye spread
    In scenes to memory dear.
So, quick they vanished all away,
    Like visioned hosts of care,
As out on the green sward we went,
    To breathe the balmy air.

Then from its home, in English soil,
    A daisy's root I drew,
Amid whose moistened crown of leaves
    A healthful bud crept through;
And whispered in its infant ear
    That it should cross the sea,
A cherished emigrant, and find
    A western home with me.

Methought it shrank, at first, and paled;
    But when on ocean's tide
Strong waves and awful icebergs frowned,
    And manly courage died,
It calmly reared a crested head,
    And smiled amid the storm,
As if old Magna Charta's soul
    Inspired its fragile form.

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