THIS poem was written by Harry Edge Rigby who died on September 3, aged 83. Before his retirement, he worked for 30 years as a proof reader at the Bolton Evening News. I wander around the sunny banks,

The sky above is blue,

And sometimes overhead I hear the song of birds so true.

'Tis here I wish that I could stay and wing my cares along,

For everything just seems to be like words of a happy song.

For here I dream of childhood days,

When fears and cares were none.

And when I thought that everything was right,

And wrong not done.

'Tis here I think of those who now enjoy more heavenly bliss.

These and more I think of here, and oh what joys I miss.

But now around me seems so changed,

No longer I can see

Those pinnacles of hope so clear, their view is dimmed to me.

The sky has turned from blue to grey, my hopes and dreams are gone,

But yet I'll always smile, and say:

"I still will carry on."

Perhaps one day the cares will fade,

And joys again come near.

This spot may behold someone new who then birdsongs will hear.

For while we still have faith to hold and lean to someone true,

This world will always carry on,

To strengthen hope anew.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.