Towering cliffs, white and dazzling, Grey seas angrily surging, Sand and shingle constantly shifting, Ancient coastline rearranging.
Gorse-strewn commons endlessly stretching, Soft green downland gently rolling, Ancient forests, dark, forbidding, Paths and bridleways, most inviting.
Furrowed fields fresh from ploughing, Corn and wheat and barley swaying In the breeze that’s always blowing Off the sea, pleasantly cooling.
Pretty villages in valleys hiding, Proud little towns on hillside standing. Seaside resorts in sunshine basking, One big city vast and sprawling.
Old churches with graveyards crumbling, Moss clothed tombstones, mostly leaning, No names remain, no way of telling Who lies below eternally resting.