The Region of the Summer Stars
© Tom Byrne
Author: Tom Byrne
There's a shadow of a slumbering god
Which obscures any sight of felicitous states
Like the clouds casting gloom in the bog

In the shadow of the slumbering god

Maglocunus leaves a crumbling hall
And that tyrant who lived only lusting for gold
Has turned golden himself in death's pall

In the shadow of the slumbering god

For the plague is a humbling force
All the servants, the warriors, the bards and the king
Have embarked on the same rotting course

In the shadow of the slumbering god

Now Deganwy is tumbling towers
And its churches are full of the desperate dead
Who were purging their lives' sins in hours

In the shadow of the slumbering god

As we pitch through this fumbling night
Every will o' the wisp will be followed by those
Who are anxiously seeking the light

In the shadow of the slumbering god

They may march to a mumbling prayer
Swallowed up by the fog in that grim, shadowed bog
But I'll look to the stars and declare,

In the shadow of the slumbering god,

When we worked
With Nimrod building Babel's tower
We knew we were working on our way back home
When bricks and mortar
Lacked the necessary power
I knew I'd keep working on my way back home

When we heard
The sermon on the mountainside,
We knew we were working on our way back home
When they jeered
And Mary Magdalena cried
I knew I'd keep working on my way back home

When we worked
In Dinas Emrys' isolation
We knew we were working on our way back home
When Dinas died,
Despairing with the Brython nation
I knew I'd keep working on my way back home

My home is the Region of the Summer Stars.