Sweet Poet of the dales and hills,
Whose gaze on Lucy’s bowers rests,
Whose love and joy and pleasant thrills
Are scattered ‘mongst the trees and nests,
In Nature’s tranquil laps you snore,
Snore, but live on for ever more.
I hear your breathing in the winds,
Your Soul is living sweetly still,
Sweetening our worldly minds
By the glamour of crags and rills;
Ye are speaking, speak for ever
As you spoke to Derwent river.
Murmuring bee and distant sea
Lulled a song to awaken thee,
Resplendence of a Nature free
Cause us small echoes to be
Calling across from shore to shore
That Love may bind us all the more.
1970.
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