In England

I walked upon the ancient Pilgrim's Way

And looked across the green and flowing downs,

The light of England pale upon the day

Illuminating sleepy ancient towns

With houses joined together at the waist.

Along the cobbled streets Clematis grew

The rose's fragrance with the lily's paced

Luxuriant and glistening with dew.

Such sacred things, the ivied church, the cries

Of new-born lambs frolicking in the field,

Cathedral spires breaking through the skies

And towers where the bells of mercy pealed.

The choirs sang amongst the faithful few

New anthems sounding tired, old, and worn,

As if a melody once bright and new

Abandoned in its groove kept playing on.

And yet an occult fervour held the land,

Where seekers held their vigils in the night,

A godlike aspiration to expand

Consciousness and seek the soul's delight.