I Never Saw That Land Before

I NEVER saw that land before,And now can never see it again;Yet, as if by acquaintance hoarEndeared, by gladness and by pain,Great was the affection that I bore5

To the valley and the river small,The cattle, the grass, the bare ash trees,The chickens from the farmsteads, allElm-hidden, and the tributariesDescending at equal interval;10

The blackthorns down along the brookWith wounds yellow as crocusesWhere yesterday the labourer's hookHad sliced them cleanly; and the breezeThat hinted all and nothing spoke.15

I neither expected anythingNor yet remembered: but some goalI touched then; and if I could singWhat would not even whisper my soulAs I went on my journeying,20

I should use, as the trees and birds did,A language not to be betrayed;And what was hid should still be hidExcepting from those like me madeWho answer when such whispers bid.25