It’s early spring at Cressage,
The days are warm and bright.
There’s blossom on the blackthorn.
Wild flowers bloom, left and right.
A white bridge stands majestic,
Astride the Severn’s flow.
Old pillboxes keep their vigil,
Still waiting for the foe.
The trees and the grass are greening.
There’s a fresh scent in the air,
And hark – the village children,
In the school yard over there.
God bless this rural England
And keep it safe from harm.
Preserve its ancient beauty
And maintain its rustic charm,
For something deep within me stirs
To see it all this way,
And I would give my life for England
Before an enemy held sway.