High-lying, sea-blown stretches of green turf,
  Wind-bitten close, salt-colored by the sea,
Low curve on curve spread far to the cool sky,
And, curving over them as long they lie,
    Beds of wild fleur-de-lys.

Wide-flowing, self-sown, stealing near and far,
  Breaking the green like islands in the sea;
Great stretches at your feet,...