Richard Thompson Wheely Down
She womanly lay like the lay of the land The land around Wheely Down And every curve was a high, high hill To hang above the town >From Holland they came to make their maps And they had made her well For the rivers danced all across the green And the pine woods sweet did smell As far as ever a man can see It yields him more and more And every house he washes it white And he covers it all with straw Except for the fool who makes him home Upon a flooded ground And still on the tide his glass to the eyes That stare out of Wheely Down All things must change within the earth They move in and they lay Ah, the ones will rot the miller's wheel And the rats will eat the grain And the armies of deliverance Are run into the ground And the kestrel turns in the empty skies And high over Wheely Down