Oh, and of course, there's 'Farewell to the Fields' by John Conolly.

"I've watched you in the evenings, in the mellow autumn evenings,
When the early mist lay damp against your brow,
I've seen your stubble burning and I've watched your rig soil turning,
Heard the seagulls crying as they wheel behind the plough.

    What will they fashion to replace the fields of green?
    What will they build me where the hedges once have been?
    What will they play me to replace the small birds' song?
    What will they show me when the butterflies have gone?

I've seen you in the mornings, in the dewy springtime mornings,
Seen you stir again as winter's hand moves on,
I've seen the careful sowing, and I've watched the green spikes growing
Like a vast advancing army as they reach towards the sun.

I've walked with you in summer, in the drowsy, dreaming summer,
I've listened to your whispers on the breeze,
I've watched your colours warming and the rich grain slowly forming,
Seen the moon come sailing on your silky golden seas.

Now the green and gold are over, for the years are growing older;
That random sort of progress cuts you down;
The machines will soon be coming, their destruction dirges humming
As you're crushed between the fingers of the ever-grasping town."

Barbara