TUDOR CHURCH MUSIC

Here in the minster tower I sit alone, While to mind’s ear old books Mumble and drone; And the warm sun slants in Over the cold stone. Through the long afternoon I hear the clock Preach to the empty church: Tick-tock. Tick-tock. O, a rare text to expound To a sleeping flock! The patient organist Who scrolled this clef; The boy who drew him horned On Gibbons in F; Singers and hearers all Are dumb and deaf— ‘Dumb and deaf, dead and dust,’ Confirms the clock. And life seems so far off That at the shock I see my calm hand start, When footsteps knock Upon stair. Holiday-makers Out on a trip To whom the verger propounds Each trusty quip, While, mute, they fidget together In uneasy fellowship. And only when they are gone Do I doff the mask Of the scholar deep in his book: ‘Did they see me?’ I ask, ‘Or am I, too, a ghost?’ and so Turn once more to my task.