Stroll through the vast fields
Where the sun's evanescent rays shine still,
Where the wind whispers a sweet melody
To the graceful willows,
To a place where wildflowers dance
Silently amongst the golden barley,
Further still, to where the humble oaks
Survey the land below with unrivaled wisdom,
Forge through the gentle sea,
until the crisp breeze of spring carries you away.
-E.M.
A pastoral ode to Gloucestershire, England.