Anything rough; but under radiant skies
Flourish the fields in flowers and blossoms.
This lovely land lieth higher
By twelve full fathoms, as famous writers,
30 As sages say and set forth in books,
Than any of the hills that here with us
Rise bright and high under heaven's stars.
Peaceful is that plain, pleasant its sunny grove,
Winsome its woodland glades; never wanes its increase
35 Nor fails of its fruitage, but fair stand the trees,
Ever green as God had given command;
In winter and summer the woodlands cease not
To be filled with fruit, and there fades not a leaf;
Not a blossom is blighted nor burned by the fire
40 Through all the ages till the end of time,
Till the world shall fail. When the fury of waters
Over all the earth in olden times
Covered the world, then the wondrous plain,
Unharmed and unhurt by the heaving flood,
45 Strongly withstood and stemmed the waves,
Blest and uninjured through the aid of God:
Thus blooming it abides till the burning fire
Of the day of doom when the death-chambers open
And the ghastly graves shall give up their dead.
50 No fearsome foe is found in that land,
No sign of distress, no strife, no weeping,
Neither age, nor misery, nor the menace of death,
Nor failing of life, nor foemen's approach,
No sin nor trial nor tribulation,
55 Nor the want of wealth, nor work for the pauper,
No sorrow nor sleep, nor sick-bed's pain,
Nor wintry winds, nor weather's raging,
Fierce under the heavens; nor the hard frost
Causeth discomfort with cold icicles.
60 Neither hail nor frost fall from the heavens,
Nor wintry cloud nor water descendeth
Stirred by the storms; but streams there flow,
Wondrously welling and watering the earth,
Pouring forth in pleasant fountains;
65 The winsome water from the wood's middle
Each month of the year from the mould of earth,
Cold as the sea, coursing through the woods,
Breaketh abundantly. It is the bidding of the Lord
That twelve times yearly that teeming land
70 The floods shall o'erflow and fill with joy.
The groves are green with gor