Like the water  in a mountain stream
In flood it drowns  the weak and  very young
In drought we can explore its bed  and dream

The limestone around Alston’s very clean
And in the little river stones are flung
It’s  water  in a new born mountain stream

Dry  river beds in Teesdale are  pristine
The dark hills threaten  as they overhang
In drought, we can explore, find stones  and dream

But much of  Pennine land remains unseen
The  steepness,wildness ,blackness darkly sing
Like the  currents  in a flung down stream

In rare heat, bare feet are river clean
The hot stones make a flat seat on the bank
In drought, we can explore or  view the scene

In  love the mind will savour and then thank
The world of nature into which it sank
Unlike the water  in a mountain stream
If our mind runs slower  it better dreams