Within a season youth will fade
Old men, go slowly to their grave.
Spring, too, must lose its vernal blush
Those dreams we nurture turn to dust.
And, yet, each day will promise bring
Of God’s transcendence birds will sing..
To look beyond the drystone walls
Where sunlight on the fellside falls
The white church like a beacon stands
How little changes in this land…
Though its lifeblood tricks and flows
Thirlemere shares no human woes.
A cairn, a poem or two, would say
We passed as flotsam on our way…