On Wenlock Edge the wood's in troubleA E Housman, from A Shropshire Lad (1896)
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood:
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare:
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
To-day the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.
Monday, 17 October 2011
'Tis the old wind in the old anger...
It's been blowing a hooley here today. Leaves everywhere, dustbins randomly distributed around the garden, Rescue Cat scooting round like a Dervish. And I've had A E Housman running round my head all day too. A good poem for a windy day, and a gentle reminder that, whatever troubles your heart today, you're not the first.
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The sky changed dramatically over the course of the day. Last night there was a hunter's moon so bright that you could almost read by it, tonight the sky is banked up with those grey rumbling clouds with the strange colour as if they are ready for a fight.
ReplyDeleteSome weather guessers are predicting snow. Those clouds looked as if they had it in them; that blood-edge which isn't the same colour as rain.
When the clouds get a bit of yellow in them, you know you're in for some weather. Last night was oddly bright and clear here, too. Today, violent winds and squally gusts. Tomorrow, anything. Bring it on.
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