A GLOUCESTERSHIRE WISH AT EASTERTIDE
Here’s luck, my lads, while Birdlip Hill is steep:—
—As long as Cotswold’s high or Severn’s deep.
Our thoughts of you shall blossom and abide
While blow the orchards about Severn side:—
—While a round bubble like the children blow,
May Hill floats purple in the sunset glow.
Our prayers go up to bless you where you lie,
While Gloucester tower stands up against the sky
To write old thoughts of loveliness, and trace
Dead men’s long living will to give God praise:—
—Who of His mercy doth His Own Son give
This blessed morn, that you, and all, may live!