An English Dawn
A rising tide of birdsong breaks The silence of the night, And, in the east, the faintest gleam Of early morning light.
No Breeze disturbs the tillness of the chill Semptember air, And on the ground, the dew creates A carpet everywhere.
the skyline trees make silhouttes against the glowing sky: majestic clouds form golden shapes, so pleasing to the eye.
a host of glorious coloures paints The ever-changing scene, as reds and yellows flood the realm Where only black had benn.
then breasting the gorizon comes a glimpse of golden sun, Burnishing the landscape - his reign has just begun.
The crowing of the cockerel says a new day is at hand. the rising sun lights up the sky and England's pleasant land.