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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

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