at SpartyLea
Beside the
black molehills,white driftlets form, as the wind wildly whirls the hard pellets of snow.
Sometimes now from my hillside, I can see the wee hamlet below, and then
gusts of the wind cover over the 'lea.
The blizzard is down here from Scotland tonight, on fierce northern winds blowing over the moors,
down from the Cheviots
down the long valleys
here to the high Pennines,
here to our meadow
here to our hearth;
aye . . .
And here's to the snow and the force of the wind --
here's to ferocity,
here's to the spark --
aye . . . .The wind's in my heart.
So bring on the bluster,
bring out the terror,
give me the worst of the snow
'till it bursts . . .
over my head,
over my shoulder
stinging my cheek
burning my ear.
Drift you your drifts and
Snow you your snow!
Fling me a billow, gasp me a gasp --
shriek me a blizzard, last while you last.
Sing a wild frenzy now, woolly and loud.
Dance to your daddy, now, madly and proud.
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