Where swallows and wheatfields are, <br />O hamlet brown and still, <br />O river that shineth far, <br />By meadow, pier, and mill: <br /> <br />O endless sunsteeped plain, <br />With forests in dim blue shrouds, <br />And little wisps of rain, <br />Falling from far-off clouds: <br /> <br />I come from the choking air <br />Of passion, doubt, and strife, <br />With a spirit and mind laid bare <br />To your healing breadth of life: <br /> <br />O fruitful and sacred ground, <br />O sunlight and summer sky, <br />Absorb me and fold me round, <br />For broken and tired am I.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/refuge-14/
