by Francis Earle Coates
Two rocked his infant cradle as he slept,
And crooned for him their native lullabies.
One gave her sense of beauty to his eyes,
One taught his heart her smiles, the tears she wept.
Each made him love her as the child his home,
And, mother-wise, reclaimed his wandering glance:
Belovèd England and belovèd France,—
Each drew him, though, afar, he could not come.
In his imagination, fleur-de-lis
And English daisy blossomed side by side,
And dreams were his, lost transports to renew.
Half exiled wheresoe'er he chanced to be,
Like migrant birds his thoughts went soaring wide,
Wooed onward by the vision of the True!