Blossom Rising

On the deaths of Major John Cairns Bartholomew, of Wadworthshire, and a much loved Devizes tree... Beneath a grey and monumental sky In wild confetti clouds that dance in air The blossom falls; all trees and men will die However good, or beautiful, or rare For years, beneath the branches of that tree Have lovers kissed, have lonely mourners waited All men and trees shall die; he, thee, and me By that same force destroyed and yet created The clattering of horses’ hooves, the sound Of yeoman passing, ghosts that haunt the ears All trees and men returneth to the ground ‘Till from the light new word of life appears In red Victorian brick and petal glow Are strength and beauty blended ‘fore our eyes Good men and trees in season come and go Such knowledge is the glory of the wise Drink with your eyes each bright delight you see And savour every moment of creation For man will pass and wind will fell the tree And wine will drop on coffins in libation While blood still flows like sap, best drain your glass Enjoy the fleeting sunbeam in your ale For trees and men shall die; for all things pass All moonlight fade and colours turn to pale Let hops be gathered; make of sunshine, hay Add rosebuds and ferment a heady brew For trees and men shall certain pass away As dark of midnight shadows summer’s blue For soon enough last orders will be rung Sad flags will flutter half way up the mast Dark laments for men and trees be sung And rest be found for dear old souls at last Learn wisdom, child, from ale and wood and bone Brew love in barrels down in cellars deep And find it there when you return, alone To watch the man in blossom rise from sleep by Gail