Will it be still the old land, The land we used to know, Where the hawthorn hedges blossom, And trellised roses glow? Will giant billows shatter Their foaming bulks of green Around the jagged Cornwall cliffs And up the bays between? Will Dartmoor still be sombre In purples and in browns? Will summer send an ecstasy Along the Sussex downs? Will tranquil Isis linger On many a silvern reach, By pensive spire and burly tower, And copse of oak and beech? Will Warwick wear a broidered smock, Fine-stitched with white and gold? Will Yorkshire moors roll Scotlandward In fold on dusky fold? Will England be that England, Unblasted by the war, With coast and heath and countryside As lovely as before? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO AN INTRA-MURAL RAT by MARIANNE MOORE THE ORANGE PICKER by DAVID IGNATOW I WANT TO LIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WAITING IN THE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL by CLARENCE MAJOR DEAR OLD DICK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |