St George was out walking
He met a dragon on a hill,
It was wise and wonderful
Too glorious to kill.
It slept amongst the wild thyme
Where the oxlips and violets grow
Its skin was a luminous fire
That made the English landscape glow.
Its tears were England’s crystal rivers
Its breath the mist on England’s moors
Its larder was England’s orchards,
Its house was without doors.
St George was in awe of it
It was a thing apart
He hid the sleeping dragon
Inside every English heart.
So on this day let’s celebrate
England’s valleys full of light,
The green fire of the landscape
Lakes shivering with delight.
Let’s celebrate St George’s Day,
The dragon in repose;
The brilliant lark ascending,
The yew, the oak, the rose.
Brian Patten, b.1946
Fr Lee Kenyon