Trees

(“You cannot think how ghastly these battle-fields look under a grey sky. Torn trees are the most terrible things I have ever seen. Absolute blight and curse is on the face of everything.”)

THE dead land oppressed me; I turned my thoughts away, And went where hill and meadow Are shadowless and gay.

Where Coopers stands by Cranham, Where the hill-gashes white Show golden in the sunshine, Our sunshine--God’s delight.

Beauty my feet stayed at last Where green was most cool, Trees worthy of all worship I worshipped ... then, O fool,

Let my thoughts slide unwitting To other, dreadful trees, ... And found me standing, staring Sick of heart--at these!