Gwen

With praise that is ringing, some people keep singing,    

          That putting the whole world together

No land can compare to the loveliness rare

          Of a Scottish lass born ‘mid the heather.

 

And others are telling in language compelling

          That wherever their wanderings have been

They’ve ne’er had the pleasure to find such a treasure

          As blue-eyed Kathleen Mavoureen. 

 

Then some folks are saying that odds they are laying,    

          If you want you can search the world o’er

You’ll not find a beginner there’s only one winner

          The lassie from old England’s shore.

 

I’m beginning to doubt it, though I didn’t want to shout it

          But I’ve just heard a whisper today

That one of the’We Seven’ has landed in heaven

          And it’s only a day’s ride away!

 

Whilst he was touring, a lassie alluring,

          The essence of ‘Sweet Seventeen’

His vision enraptured, his heart she encaptured

          A dear little Welsh Gwendoline.

 

We gave him assistance, we taught him persistence

          For though slow he was awfully keen;

And so by insistence he broke all resistance

          And now she’s his sweet Gwendoline.

 

                              A Valentine      (Sequel to Gwen)

 

Dear Gwen I pen this note to you       

          I ain’t much good at verse

But still it’s time I wrote to you,

          For better, or for worse.

 

Although so many miles from you

          So many miles away;

I can’t forget those smiles from you

          Last New Year’s Day.

 

I can’t forget that talk with you,

          In the village street –

Although I know that walk with you

          Was short and sweet.

 

Dear Gwen, I pen this ode to you

          Until again we meet

And when those miles I’ve rode to you

          Don’t run up’t street!  

                                                                      February 1927