The cherry tree

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Those bloody dead

That debt we owe

Abide with me

Don’t let me go.


That mocking voice

These clever folk

Display their wit

In the cutting joke.


That tree that grew

These shady nooks

That dappled sunlight

These gilded brooks.


For men may come to worse than dust

When love of country is breach of trust.

◄ Melek Taus



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John Marks

Sun 4th Sep 2016 20:21

Thank you very much David. As I'm sure you know, the shorter the poem the harder the work! The penultimate line is adapted from Housman's 'A Shropshire Lad' just after the 'land of lost content' stanza:

XL. Into my heart on air that kills

INTO my heart on air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content, 5
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

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Wolfgar Miere

Sun 4th Sep 2016 08:56

Especially brilliant last two lines John.

Men often become confused about what love of country is, it becomes almost everything but.

Really liked this, especially its concise structure and hard hitting punch.


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