gerald finzi - where the picnic was lyrics
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where we made the fire
in the summer time
of branch and briar
on the hill to the sea
i slowly climb
through winter mire
and scan and trace
the forsaken place
quite readily
now a cold wind blows
and the grass is gray
but the spot still shows
as a burnt circle _ aye
and stick_ends, charred
still strew the sward
whereon i stand
last relic of the band
who came that day!
yes, i am here
just as last year
and the sea breathes brine
from its strange straight line
up hither, the same
as when we four came
_ but two have wandered far
from this grassy rise
into urban roar
where no picnics are
and one _ has shut her eyes
for evermore
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