The White Cliffs

I have loved England, dearly and deeply,
Since that first morning, shining and pure,
The white cliffs of Dover I saw, rising steeply
Out of the sea that once made her secure.

I had no thought then of husband or lover,
I was a traveler, the guest of a week;
Yet when they pointed "the white cliffs of Dover,"
Startled I found there were tears on my cheek.

I have loved England, and still as a stranger,
Here is my home, and I still am alone.
Now in her hour of trial and danger,
Only the English are really her own.