 Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org by Andrea Fiore Oh, to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some mourning unaware, that the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaff inch sings on the orchard bow in England now. And after April when may follows, and the white throat builds, and all the swallows, hark where my blossom pear tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush he sings each song twice over. Lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, all will be gay when noontide wakes anew. The butter-cups, the little children stour, far brighter than this gaudy melon flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org by Belona Times O to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some mourning unaware, that the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaff inch sings on the orchard bow in England now. And after April when may follows, and the white throat builds, and all the swallows, hark, where my blossomed pear-tree and the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush he sings each song twice over. Lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew. The butter-cups, the little children's dower, far brighter than this gaudy melon flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org by David Lawrence O to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some morning unaware that the lowest bows and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaff inch sings on the orchard bow in England now. And after April when may follows, and the white throat builds, and all the swallows, hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush. He sings each song twice over, lest you should think he could never recapture the first fine careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew the butter-cups, the little children's dower, far brighter than this gaudy melon flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org Oh, to be in England, now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some morning unaware that the lowest bows and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaff inch sings on the orchard bow in England now. And after April, when May follows, and the white-throat builds, and all the swallows, hark, where my blossomed pear tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush. He sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with horrid dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew the butter-cups, the little children's dower, far brighter than this gaudy melon flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org by Lucy Perry Oh to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some morning unaware that the lowest bows and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaff inch sings on the orchard bow in England now. And after April, when May follows, and the white-throat builds and all the swallows, hark when my blossomed pear tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush. He sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with horrid dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew the butter-cups, the little children's dower, far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org by Ruth Golding Oh to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some morning unaware that the lowest bows and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaffinch sings on the orchard-bowl in England now. And after April, when May follows and the white-throat builds and all the swallows, hark when my blossomed pear tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush. He sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine, careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with horrid dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew the butter-cups, the little children's dower, far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts From Abroad by Robert Browning Read for LibriVox.org by Revan Nottingham Oh to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some morning unaware that the lowest bows and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaffinch sings on the altered bow in England. Ow. And after April, when May follows, and the white throat builds, and all the swallows, hark when my blossomed pear tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush. He sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture. And though the fields look rough with horrid dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew the butter-cups, the little children's dower, far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Home Thoughts from Abroad by Robert Browning read for LibriVox.org by Secrets. Oh, to be in England now that April's there, and whoever wakes in England sees some morning unaware that the lowest bows and the brushwood sheaf round the elm tree bowl are in tiny leaf, while the chaffinch sings on the altered bow in England now. And after April, when May follows, and the white-throat bills and all the swallows, hark where my blossomed pear tree in the hedge leans to the field and scatters on the clover, blossoms and dew drops at the bent spray's edge. That's the wise thrush. He sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture, and though the fields look rough with hoary dew, all will be gay when noontime wakes anew. The butter-cups and the little children's dower far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain.