Classic Poem

In England, in Summer, the sky is very blue,
And the grass grows greener than anywhere I know.
The low thatched roofs, elm, oak and yew,
Shine in the sun, and the crimson roses blow.
Oh, Summertime in England, with soft days, and rains,
And English girls and English lads in fragrant Surrey lanes!

I rode down to Winchester. The hills were at peace,
And I saw rivers winding, like ribbons, far away
I saw the rich grain and the hay-mows increase,
And the green hedges glisten through the long, slow day.
Oh, Summertime in England with the sad war over —
How wonderful the Canterbury bells and the clover!

The old walls spoke to me, the old houses said,
" It's beautiful in England with the mad war done! "
But I thought as I passed them, O, I thought of the dead,
Of boys who would not see again this radiant sun
For Summertime in England is glorious and good,
And the hollyhocks laugh, and the poppy in its hood.

Is it lovelier now, I wonder? Are the gardens more fair?
A girl looks up at the sky as I pass;
And I know she is thinking of somebody there,
Who loved rolling meadows and thick English grass.
O, Summertime in England — my eyes are very dim —
Summertime for her again, but nevermore for him!