LD 62 A soft day

I have always liked both that description - from Ireland - and also the poem by Winifred Mary Letts, but most of all the arrangement by Stanford.     

It was very much that sort of day here in Argyll so it was the perfect opportunity to  to try and catch up on all the constituency work that couldn't be done when I was in Parliament for two days this past week.

Here is the poem - the link above  takes you to a performance of the song. 

A soft day, thank God! 
A wind from the south 
With a honey'd mouth; 
A scent of drenching leaves, 
Briar and beech and lime, 
White elderflower and thyme, 
And the soaking grass smells sweet, 
Crushed by my two bare feet,
While the rain drips, 
Drips, drips, drips from the eaves. 

 A soft day, thank God! 
The hills wear a shroud 
Of silver cloud; 
The web the spider weaves Is a glittering net; 
The woodland path is wet, 
And the soaking earth smells sweet 
Under my two bare feet, 
And the rain drips, 
Drips, drips, drips from the leaves.

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