The very neame of Wessex

Teakes us way back drough the ages

An’ we cin imagine they Saxon times

As we turn back the Chronicle pages.

King Alfred and St Ealdhelm

Had soulsight in zoo many ways,

Their vision for Wessex survives min,

Continuing the link wi’ they days.

Ah, an the land wi’ its eight shires,

Be rich in earthlore an’ fertile vales,

Hillforts, henges an’ burial mounds,

Chalk downland, moors, an’ dales.

A thousand years could na’r extinguish

The tongue of Wessex or its roots,

As we da tread its unchanged landscape

The spirits of our forbears be anewst.

Zoo come wave thik flag of Wessex

An’ celebrate the girt privilege

Of livin’ in this comely land of ours,

Wessex: our beloved heritage.

Soulsight = spiritual vision

Min = you know

Earthlore = geology

Na’r = never

Anewst = very near

Thik = that

Comely = beautiful