Where Finnow The White River

Where Finnow the white river to the Blackwater flow
In the fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
Where it has flowed forever it babbles on slow
In the home to the badger, the rabbit, the hare and gray crow

The inspiration of the writers of story and rhyme
Finnow the white river is so old in time
The truth of it's history will never be told
Like all natural waterways it is so very old

In the fields by Finnow the white river as a young boy
The beauty of Nature i grew to enjoy
As human years go this now seems long ago
And time that ages everything has become my foe

The great gift of memory is such a marvelous thing
Above the rushy fields in the prime of the Spring
The little brown lark a musical speck in the sky
Does sing as up to the gray clouds he does fly

In the leafy groves by Finnow the white river the birds are singing today
And in the rushy fields wildflowers are in bloom in the prime of the May
And though the sun often hidden behind clouds of gray
Earthly Utopia from there cannot be far away.