England

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Title:     England
Author: Walter De la Mare [More Titles by De la Mare]

No lovelier hills than thine have laid
My tired thoughts to rest:
No peace of lovelier valleys made
Like peace within my breast.

Thine are the woods whereto my soul,
Out of the noontide beam,
Flees for a refuge green and cool
And tranquil as a dream.

Thy breaking seas like trumpets peal;
Thy clouds--how oft have I
Watched their bright towers of silence steal
Into infinity!

My heart within me faults to roam
In thought even far from thee:
Thine be the grave whereto I come,
And thine my darkness be.

[The end]
Walter De la Mare's poem: England

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