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.