Country Born

We who were born

In country places

Far from cities

And shifting faces,

We have a birthright

No man can sell

And a secret joy

No man can tell.

For we are kindred

To lordly things:

The wild duck's flight

And the wild owl's wings,

The pike and the salmon,

The bull and the horse,

The curlew's cry

And the smell of gorse.

Pride of trees,

Swiftness of streams,

Magic of frost

Have shaped our dreams.

No baser vision

Their spirit fills

Who walk by right

On the naked hills.

~ Eiluned Lewis