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WEEK ST. MARY TOWER |
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1. |
Thou for
many years hast stood,
Overlooking
field and wood;
From thy
top the village green
And the
distant sea are seen. |
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2. |
From thee
also may be viewed
Widemouth
beach and town of Bude,
And thro’
the drear waste of night
Can be
seen the Lundy light. |
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3. |
From thy
belfry rings the call,
“Come to
Church, ye people all,”
And the
same bell’s mournful toll
To the
graves doth summon all. |
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4. |
Unchanged,
thro many changes, thou
Art scarce
the worse for age e’en now.
On thy
walls so strong and gray,
The force
of storms is thrown away. |
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5. |
Long ago
was thy foundation,
Laid ‘midst
general exultation.
But the men
who work’d that day,
Centuries
since, have turned to clay. |
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6. |
Would that
on thee were conferred
Power to
tell what thou hast heard,
Things that
men have said and done
In the
days long past and gone. |
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7. |
Strange the
stories thou could’st tell
Of those
who in the village dwell.
Queer
indeed would be the history,
Revealing
much that’s now a mystery. |
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8. |
Thro’ the
day dost thou look down
On the busy
little town,
And at
night strict watch doth keep,
While the
foil-worn peasants sleep. |
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9. |
Since on
the thee sun first shined
Mary Week
has much declined,
Men have
fled and trade has waned,
Markets
stopped and pockets drained. |
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10. |
Since, on
Greenmore’s grass and heather,
Bonaventure
strolled at leisure,
Funerals
many hast thou seen
Winding
o’er the churchyard green. |
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11. |
There,
beneath thy shadow, rest
Rich and
poor, whom none molest;
Deaf to all
that men may say,
Sleeping
till the judgement day |
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12. |
Then from
calm and lengthened sleep
Some shall
wake no more to weep;
Some with
terror and dismay
Will the
trumpet’s sound obey. |
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13. |
Scoffers
then will cowards turn,
Sinful
people all shall mourn
But the
true and upright man
Shall be
set at God’s right hand. |
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14. |
Adieu, old
Tower, tall and strong;
My stay at
Week will not be long;
Like thee
may I e’er be straight,
And in
every act upright. |
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T.
C. JACOB
Week St.
Mary 1879 |
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