On Saturday we mooched around the Lyth Valley, seeking damsons. Our search was successful. When we got home I sought out this lovely poem by William Dobson:
Oft as I gaze along the lovely vale
Sloping from these green hills to yonder sea,
Or walk at ease through woodland, land and lea,
Or, seeking wider outlook, slowly scale
Its flanking scars - mid Winter's driving gale,
Or genial Summer's calm amenity -
Mid noon-day glare, or eve's serenity -
Its power to charm my spirit doth not fail.
O happy valley! - sloping gently down
From these green hills to yonder shimmering sea -
Dreamland of babbling brooks and songsters gay:
Though far away from thee my feet should stray,
Still be it mine in joyous melody
To own thy sway, and sing thy fair renown!
