From the "Yorkshire Post"
To my note on the poem "Arkendale," which the late Sir Walford Davies turned into an enchanting song, I can now add that the author had a close family link with "The Yorkshire Post."
The words of the song, I learn, were written by Miss Mary Gillman, sister of our former Political Correspondent, Mr. F. Gillman, who is now serving with the R.A.F.
Sir Walford Davies, who was a friend of their father, Mr..F. J. Gillman, once asked him if ever he came across any lyrical words suitable for setting to music to send them to him. When Mr Gillman saw this little poem, which his daughter had roughly written on a sheet of paper, he sent it to Sir Walford, who took a great fancy to it and at once set it to music.
The words were inspired by the beauty of the name which Miss Gillman and her father had often noticed on the signpost while on their way from Knaresborough to York, where the family lived for many years. Neither the writer nor her father has ever been to the village, though a framed "Yorkshire Post'' photograph of the village street hangs in their home.
Do roses grow in Arkendale
And honeysuckles bloom?
And are the banks of Arkendale
Aflame with gorse and broom?
Oh can you lie in Arkendale
Among the purple ling
And breathe the scents of Arkendale
And hear the thrushes sing?
Oh do they laugh in Arkendale
And love each other well?
And is there peace in Arkendale
More deep than tongue can tell?
Do folk who live at Arkendale
Work hard at honest toil
To make fair homes in Arkendale
And till the friendly soil?
The road that leads to Arkendale
Is one I've never been,
The finger post to Arkendale
Is all I've ever seen.
I dare not go to Arkendale
Though fair its sweet name seems,
Lest I should find an Arkendale
Less lovely than my dreams,
Lest I should find an Arkendale
Less lovely than my dreams.
Naomi M. Gillman
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