William Henry Davies

Heaven

The Collected Poems of William H. Davies

That paradise the Arab dreams,

Is for less sand and more fresh streams.

The only heaven an Indian knows,

Is hunting deer and buffaloes.

The Yankee heaven—to bring Fame forth

By some freak show of what he’s worth.

The heaven that fills an English heart,

Is Union Jacks in every part.

The Irish heaven is heaven of old,

When Satan cracked skulls manifold.

The Scotsman has his heaven to come—

To argue his Creator dumb.

The Welshman’s heaven is singing airs—

No matter who feels sick and swears.