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!