In the quiet of the English morn,
Where mist and dew are freshly born,
Her whispers are like gentle rain,
Softly washing away the pain.
Her words, a melody so sweet,
With every step, my heart does beat,
A lullaby in the night’s embrace,
A touch of calm, a tender grace.
Through fields of green and skies of blue,
Her love remains forever true,
A guiding light, a steadfast hand,
In every storm, she helps me stand.
Oh, English mother, pure and bright,
Your love, a beacon in the night,
Forever cherished, ever near,
Your whispers, my heart will always hear.