In the silence of the English dawn,
Where whispers of the past are drawn,
The sun rises with a gentle grace,
Painting hues on nature’s face.

The ancient oaks and timeless streams,
Bear witness to countless dreams,
Every leaf and every stone,
Tells a story, long and grown.

The streets echo with tales untold,
Of history’s warmth and winter’s cold,
In every brick and cobblestone,
Lives a spirit, free and bold.

As twilight falls and shadows play,
The English night begins to sway,
Under the stars, the land does sing,
Of timeless lore and eternal spring.