They Called Thee Merry England

They called Thee Merry England,  in old time;

A happy people won for thee that name

With envy heard in many a distant clime;

And, spite of change, for me thou keep'st the same

Endearing title, a responsive chime

To the heart's fond belief; though some there are

Whose sterner judgments deem that word a snare

For inattentive Fancy, like the lime

Which foolish birds are caught with. Can, I ask,

This face of rural beauty be a mask

For discontent, and poverty, and crime;

These spreading towns a cloak for lawless will?

Forbid it, Heaven!—and Merry England  still

Shall be thy rightful name, in prose and rhyme!