It touches your heart, fills your dream,
Rolling moorland, clear water stream.
Sheep and ponies wander at will,
That elusive peace you find here still.
The magic of Spring, soft greens prevail,
Lambs and foals follow a trail.
I linger awhile, drink its sweet air,
Here on the Moor it's precious, it's rare.
Rolling moorland, clear water stream.
Sheep and ponies wander at will,
That elusive peace you find here still.
The magic of Spring, soft greens prevail,
Lambs and foals follow a trail.
I linger awhile, drink its sweet air,
Here on the Moor it's precious, it's rare.