Galloway Song

Galloway Song

 Here on the high moors

That look to the sea,

Where purple vintage spills

For the roving bee,

A heart may discover again



Here on the wild moss

Under the hill

White lilies shine and float

On water still,

And blue cloud-shadows weave

At the wind’s will.


Here in the deep woods

Where, yesterday,

Great flooding spring-tide pools

Of bluebells lay,

Green ferns are cool, and breathe



Here on the green holms

Where the swallow skims

Sunshine and shadow flicker

On silver streams;

And summer and winter pass

In a shimmer of dreams.


D.M.P. ©