Heritage

HERITAGE

Through town and village, across hill and dale, beside the flowing stream,

the mark of history and of age of England's pass seen.

Down path and road, and to the sea, to the margins of the land from north

to south, and east to west, the thing that once had been.

Green be the hills and fields around, marked by the hand of might,

Long be the deeds of England's past, but thanks be that they shed a light,

From castle walls and mighty towers, they looked in those days gone by,

From ages black to time of gold beneath old England's skies.

The rural scenes have changed in time, to these our present days,

but think of the wonders of the past, that beneath us lays,

Gold of the earth, skilled by the hand, steel and bronze for the fight,

In time will yield, by stream, by field, out of the depths of night,

From days when the ground echoed with sound, to the march of the

legion long,

To the fires at night beneath the cool moonlight, lulled by a minstralls song.

Think of those days, and think of old ways, think back with resounding

strides, in history books at times we look, back to the path that winds,

Back to the fields in the sparkle of light, across to the ranks of plume,

the running of feet in the morning heat, and the crash on a warriors shield,

Long be the cries beneath the skies, into the sinking sun, red be the ground,

with dying sound, when the day is done,

Smoke in the morn and the camp is still, battered and torn lay around,

Only the whine in a distant field, of a smitten warriors hound,

Onward goes time, and a battle forgot and so an era begins, days come

and go and the seasons of snow, and to summer the blackbird sings,

Far be those ways, and forgotten those days, somewhere in times is sealed,

but from out of the earth will be a rebirth, and from this all knowledge will

yeild.

Maxwell Dunlop

Copywrite Maxwell Dunlop