Let me like a Feather Fall (Adapted for Joseph)
Yes, let me like a feather fall
If tumble then, I must;
Not I desire the vulgar sprawl
To rudely kiss the dust
No, I’ll recline as gracefully
As if t’were by a spell
And they that stay and see shall say
“He like a feather fell”.
Yes from the saddle I’ll descend
And on the road recline
So gently that a smiling friend
May claim it all sublime
But the saddle I shall try to keep
For to part like that’s a sell;
Yet they shall say, if we part that way
“He like a feather fell”.
Yes the vile cropper I despise
The gentle I admire
And all are free to criticise
The spill that I desire;
And when I tumble give this song
And true that song shall tell
How through that space and with what grace
“He like a feather fell”.
Camping – Two Aspects!
Camp no 1
Dusk o’er the camp was creeping –
The camp of the ‘Seven are We’
And the countryside was sleeping
In sweet tranquillity;
And the evening breeze just stirred the trees
A sweetly scented summer breeze
And the fire glowed fitfully.
A haze o’er the hills was lying,
A peace had settled round
And the pinewood embers dying
Glowed softly on the ground
Oh, the calm of night and the fading light,
The wonderful calm of a summer night
Serenity profound!
Camp no 2
Rain o’er the camp was falling –
The camp of the ‘Seven are We’
And a voice was dolefully calling
“Oh for a pot of tea”
A bad campsite and a cold wet night
A puddly, clammy, bad camp night
And weary campers three
The primus won’t keep going
And the butter will not spread
And a nor’east gale was blowing
(“Oh for a nice warm bed”)
The wind blew in through the fabric thin
And when the wind blew in the rain came in,
“Ere morning we’ll be dead” After Easter 1927
