17th April: Coedstre

Childhood's home of my heart,/
the years have changed you:/
your thick warding stone walls pierced/
by windows fashionably large,/
your clear stoney yard filled now/
with a spreading ash tree./
The smell of cows has vanished/
from the farmhouse; and the hay-barn/
where first I made love/
is empty of all but spiders/
and a stranger's odds.//

Weeds crowd the lanes, the old ways/
have gone from you./
But still I see my father/
striding out into the early dawn./
The smell of his milking-coats still lie in my nose,/
and the magic of snow/
and "Blwyddyn Newydd Dda!" still dwell/
in my heart./

The rain sweeps the same across the valley,/
though the trains have gone;/
and the deep deceitful Teifi/
still flows as it did/
in the days of old times,
full of fish and .//