Remembering
Reading edition
(Locheven)
There is a spot in the woods That is “forever England” to me. A clump of beech trees Steeped in silence, Whose shade and solitude Shuts me in with my dreams. The sunshine slants through Their limpid leaves And turns them to translucent jade, Just as it does in an English spring. Violets are there, and I pluck them, Remembering the bluebells In the beech wood At Sevenoaks.