In the heart of misty mornings,
Where cobblestones echo tales of old,
The sun kisses the ancient spires,
Painting dreams in hues of gold.

Through bustling streets of timeless charm,
Voices weave a tapestry of life,
In markets where stories intertwine,
Amidst the city’s vibrant strife.

Beneath the shade of oaken arms,
The whispers of history gently flow,
In gardens where silence speaks,
And the roses of yesterday grow.

As twilight drapes its velvet cloak,
Stars guide the weary wanderer home,
In the serene embrace of night,
Dreams of the English life freely roam.