GOD laughed when he made Grafton That's under Bredon Hill, A jewel in a jewelled plain. The seasons work their will On golden thatch and crumbling stone, And every soft-lipped breeze Makes music for the Grafton men In comfortable trees. God's beauty over Grafton Stole into roof and wall, And hallowed every paved path And every lowly stall, And to a woven wonder Conspired with one accord The labour of the servant, The labour of the Lord. And momently to Grafton Comes in from vale and wold The sound of sheep unshepherded, The sound of sheep in fold, And, blown along the bases Of lands that set their wide Frank brows to God, comes chanting The breath of Bristol tide. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD SEXTON by PARK BENJAMIN THE RAGGEDY MAN by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY SONNET: 35 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE VISION OF SIN by ALFRED TENNYSON ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 6. TO WILLIAM HALL, ESQ., WITH THE WORKS OF CHAULIEU by MARK AKENSIDE FATA MORGANA by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS FIDELIA ARGUING WITH HER SELF ON THE DIFFICULTY FINDING TRUE RELIGION by JANE BARKER |