Memories Of Wales (1957-58)

When at night the lamps are lit.
And by my cosy fire I sit.
November skies so dull and grey,
Give way to those of a bygone day.
My thoughts take wing and carry me
Westwards, on to Anglesey.
What memories to me belong.
Of summer days, in the Land of Song!

Here a mountain, misty blue,
Heather-clad, in the morning dew;
Here a brook, so swift and clear:
Grey stone walls, of many a year;
Whitewashed farmhouse, fields of corn,
Valleys green, in the early dawn;
But, by far, the memory most dear to me
Is a rosy sunset, o'er mountain and sea.

D. ROOT, 2B