THE HOLY WELL FOLKESTONE

Will Pilcher

Down in the valley, far below,
Where green the watercress grow
Where the hills and the valley meet,
Run the spring waters, cool and sweet.

There the Romans once built a well,
Brick by brick, as a water cell,
To quench the thirst of foreign man,
Invaders of the roman clan.

But now the well is cleft apart
By age of time and young in heart:
But still the spring waters cool and sweet
Flow on where hills and valley meet.