8. Anglian muse

Among the reeds a man dreams
Hears the voice of Anglia past
Pulling down the wind he commands his muse
Making legend fast

Wrestling under enormous skies
Drawing music from Anglian air
Creating a new tradition
Inviting us all to share...

He stands where we stand
Hears the same sound
Like us sees where the sky meets the ground
Watches what we watch
But does not leave it there
But with skill luck endeavour
Snares the beast in its lair

This place he has made well-known
The world knows this Anglian name
Going on before we must take those risks
To preserve the flame

Do we still hear the angel voice
Of everyman in Anglian lane
Whistling down the wind he commands his muse
In the perfect plain