What Malvern is the day is, and it’s touchstone
Gray velvet, or moonmarked; rich, or bare as bone;
One looks towards Malvern and is tuned to the whole,
The world swings round him, as the Bear to the Pole.
Men have crossed seas to know how Paul’s tops Fleet;
So music has wrapt them high in the mere street
While none or few will care how the curved giants’ stand,
(Those strengths upthrusti) on the meadow and plough-land.
But God wondered, when Wren heaved up Dome above Thames,
Worcestershire to Herefordshire Beacon learnt shapes and different names.
He is a Wonderer still, though men grow cold and chill –
And walk accustomed by Staunton or up Ludgate Hill.
(Ivor Gurney)
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