When Soft September Brings Again To Yonder Gorse Its Golden Glow, And Snowdon Sends Its Autumn Rain To Bid Thy Current Livelier Flow; Amid That Ashen Foliage Light When Scarlet Beads Are Glistering Bright, While Alder Boughs Unchanged Are Seen In Summer Livery Of Green; When Clouds Before The Cooler Breeze Are Flying, White And Large; With These Returning, So May I Return, And Find Thee Changeless, Pont-Y-Wern.