“Oh those rides across the river
Where the shallow stream runs wide Where the sunset’s beams were crossing The sand on either side
They would cross the sparkling river
On a brown horse and a bay
Watch the willows sway and shiver And the trembling shadows play
‘Tis a memory to be hoarded
Of a foolish talk and fond
‘Til another stream be forded
And they reach the great beyond ....”
Anon.
[Copied from scribbled notes found in a waste paper skip in 2013]
