With Winter On The Woods 
With winter on the woods these days
The east wind strafes the swings
Sheds its load in Bellevue Road
The cemetery sings
The hymns of  sailors' sweethearts
For lovers run aground
From faded scripts upon the crypts
The ivy winds around.
The iron gates, the brickwork
The conker trees, the yew
The ghost of Captain Sainty  
Still calling for his crew

With winter on the woods these days
She wears a widow's veil   
Beautiful in middle age
If rather cruel and pale
But not a patch on summer, boys
Ah, that was an affair
Moved on. I loved her. 
Called her name too late. 
She wasn't there.

The hawthorn cracks, the ditches fill
A grizzled wolf, I haunt that hill.
And hunger for the lime-gold spring 
And watch young Adam, coppicing
But I won't cry -cos boys don't cry
Not even as the trains go by
Seen through a blue and smoky haze
The embers of remembered days  

That memories are verdigris  
Upon the soul, is all I know
And winter's on the woods again 
And I  return to Wivenhoe.

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