Across the border

I make no apologies for the poor quality of this photo; I'm quite thrilled with it. I must have tried to take this from the train dozens of times as it speeds (usually) along just north of Berwick-upon-Tweed. There are signs on both up and down lines. It must be quite an old sign because it says "British Railways". The rest is obvious, apart from the small coats of arms above the respective flags which are a bit too dark and blurry.

When I was thinking about blipper Molly whose sad and untimely passing we heard about last night, a couple of lines from a poem popped into my head. It was something I'd studied for O-level (= a very long time ago) and I hadn't a clue who'd written it, but I had recalled enough phrases to enable that nice Mr Google to find it for me. Turns out it was written about a hundred years ago by a New Zealander called R.A.K.Mason.

After Death

And there will be just as rich fruits to cull
And jewels to see;
Nor shall the moon nor the sun be any more dull;
And there will be flowers as fine to pull,
And the rain will be as beautiful -
But not for me.

And there shall be no splendour gone from the vine,
Nor from the tree;
And still in the heavens shall glow Jah's radiant sign,
And the dancing sun on horses' sleek hides shall seem no less fine;
Still shall the car sweep along with as lovely a line -
But not for me.

And men shall cut no less curious things upon brass,
Still sweep the sea;
Nor no little, lustrous shadow upon the sand's mass
Cast by the lilting ripple above shall cease to pass,
And radiance still shall enhalo shadows on moonlit grass -

But not for me.