Iii

So, there, when sunset made the downs look new And earth gave up her colours to the sky, And far away the little city grew Half into sight, new-visioned was my eye.

I, who have lived, and trod her lovely earth, Raced with her winds and listened to her birds, Have cared but little for their worldly worth Nor sought to put my passion into words.

But now it’s different; and I have no rest Because my hand must search, dissect and spell The beauty that is better not expressed, The thing that all can feel, but none can tell.

1 March 1914