O pastoral heart of England! like a psalm
Of green days telling with a quiet beat-
O wave into the sunset flowing calm!
O tirèd lark descending on the wheat!
Lies it all peace beyond the western fold
Where now the lingering shepherd sees his star
Rise upon Malvern? Paints an Age of Gold
Yon cloud with prophecies of linkèd ease-
Lulling this Land, with hills drawn up like knees,
To drowse beside her implements of war?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem