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