Low leagues of coast dunes bending to the west
Are tremulous with waving beach grass green,
Or all aglare with shifting sands that, seen
At midday, show their arid whiteness best.
At farthest end start up, as if to breast
The ocean’s might, low rounded hills that lean
Their turfed slopes to the sun, and in between
These swelling downs a road winds, all unguessed
Till near, and fringed with homely farmsteads like
Some country lane with honest country bloom.
The murmurs of the sea seem faint and far
Though close beside. All summer sounds that strike
The ear bring peace. All winds waft blent perfume
Of sea and meadow through the village quaint.
(Oscar Fay Adams)
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Based on Topics: War & Peace Poems, Countries PoemsBased on Keywords: aglare, turfed, farmsteads