To some this vale may seem remote
by Francis Duggan
But had I the genius of a poet
I'd write of what I hear and see
And all this beauty that captivates me.
Green meads made lush from thundery showers
And decked with hosts of wildering flowers
And rainbow in the evening sky
A delight to the sheperd's eye.
In green pine wood the wild birds sing
For happiness and joy of Spring
From dawn's first light till gloam of day
They pipe their melodies of May.
And lark pipe o'er the hillside brown
That overlook the sleepy town
And stream flow downland from the hill
With babbling voice that's never still.
If what I see I could relate
And with a sweet song celebrate
But poets are few and far between
And I'm not one or so 'twould seem.