charles villiers stanford – chillingham lyrics
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o the high valley, the little low hill
and the cornfield over the sea
the wind that rages and then lies still
and the clouds that rest and flee!
o the gray island in the rainbow haze
and the long thin spits of land
the roughening pastures and the stony ways
and the golden flash of the sand!
o the red heather on the moss-wrought rock
and the fir-tree stiff and straight
the sh-ggy old sheep-dog barking at the flock
and the rotten old five-barred gate!
o the brown bracken, the blackberry bough
the scent of the gorse in the air!
i shall love them ever as i love them now
i shall weary in heaven to be there!
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