The Leaden Stour

Down by the leaden Stour The miller’s tale is at an end In a wood at the water’s edge Rooks are nesting overhead Here, beneath the clouds Black waters rise, again Down by the leaden Stour Fog is settling on the fields Pathways disappear Footfalls led astray By the riverside A penny for the ferry New stones for the churchyard A hundred years have passed Black waters rise, again Down by the leaden Stour Hawks are circling overhead A sundial by the yew trees A guinea for a life By the riverside There’s wood for the gallows And food for the crows The carriers of souls Black waters rise One hundred years have passed Black waters rise, again By a curve of the river At the end of the road Black waters rise, again