Jack Lovejoy
Winter Thursday
A Thursday service on a winter day,
Forgathered at the casket of a friend,
Where bleak formalities and mourning blend
With selfish apprehension and dismay.
The commonsense of counsel shrank away
From efforts to accept or comprehend
How vainly learning, love and valour end.
Ambition withered and the world was grey.
The muffled tolling of a mournful bell
Began remotely to reverberate
For some bereaved unknown beyond the gate;
A burden of redemption not to dwell
On toils afflicting us and those that wait,
And live with more abundance, and create.
Page(s) 21
magazine list
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