The Vale of Ffestiniog

 

There’s a town above a river

There’s a vale where pine tree tops quiver

When the winter breezes shiver

                              In the Vale of Maentwrog.

 

See the creamy waters curling

Down the ravine, swiftly swirling

O’er the dripping rocks go hurling

                              To the Vale of Maentwrog.

 

Mountains to the sky ascending,

With the sky in the distance blending,

Steep brown roads from moors descending

                              Winding to Ffestiniog

 

Distant sea in sunset glamour;

Slowly dies the quarries clamour

Ringing pick and noisy hammer

                              Blaenau Ffestiniog

 

Mountain mists come slowly veiling;

In silken folds the day is failing

Twilight hillsides gently pale-ing

                              O’er the Vale of Maentwrog

 

Moonbeams slant across the river

Where the mountains stand for ever

In the Vale where pine tree tops quiver

When the winter breezes shiver

                              In the Vale of Maentwrog.

January 1926