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Poem by Cicely Fox Smith


From the North


I wish't I was in Lancashire huntin' o' the hare
All across the wide moorlands an' the hollows brown an' bare,
Hearkenin' to the good hounds' cry, hearkenin' to the horn,
Far away in Lancashire on a windy morn.

I wish't I was in Lancashire along o' folks I know,
Rangin' o'er the countryside in all the winds that blow
As they blew when I was yet a lad, in the place where I was born,
Far away in Lancashire on a good huntin' morn.

There's gradely hounds in Lancashire, as such there always were:
There's gradely hills in Lancashire as how they're bleak an' bare:
There's jannock lads in Lancashire, and that I tell you true,
An' I wish't I was in Lancashire all the day through!



Cicely Fox Smith


Cicely Fox Smith's other poems:
  1. The Fight on the Island
  2. Ghosts in Deptford
  3. So Long (All Coiled Down)
  4. A Port Forsaken
  5. The Old Love and the New


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