She gave her songs to forest lakes,
Where autumn larch in echoes sang.
The golden tremors of the fall
Went rippling through her melodies.
She gave her songs to crumbling walls,
Where hoopoes nest and stonechats chack.
And ancient stonework melts in rain
As surely as the spring brings change.
She gave her song to English parks,
To channelled streams and sculpted weirs,
To jackdaw nests in roofless naves,
And drips from leaves of tulip trees.
She gave her songs to form and shape,
As gifts of love we always take.