Trees

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!