English Green

There is no green as English green
From Lincoln to the Weald,
No stronger Oak nor suppler Yew
Than guard this English field;

There is no tongue as English tongue
To talk and tell and dream,
No darker deed, no greater love
Than flow from Avon's stream;

There is no thought as English thought
When standing by the sea
A thousand ships are lost to view
And widows hide their grief;

There is no hope as English hope
That rain may turn to sun,
Skies will clear to deepest blue
Before the tide has run;

There is no fool as English fool
Believes in good and right:
While the beacons burn in vain
Against the cold of night.

There is no green as English green,
No tongue, no thought, no hope:
But fools may build Jerusalem
Upon the steepest slope
And dream the deepest dream.

© Ivor & Kevan Bundell 2006