Rosa 'A Shropshire Lad' 1 August 2023

I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded – A.E. Houseman

I hoed and trenched and weeded,

And took the flowers to fair:

I brought them home unheeded;

The hue was not the wear.

So up and down I sow them

For lads like me to find,

When I shall lie below them,

A dead man out of mind.

Some seed the birds devour,

And some the season mars,

But here and there will flower,

The solitary stars,

And fields will yearly bear them

As light-leaved spring comes on,

And luckless lads will wear them

When I am dead and gone.

The above poem is the last poem (number 63) in Houseman’s collection A Shropshire Lad. The poem is not a happy one but then these days I am not a happy lad myself.

The poem, nonetheless is most appropriate to illustrate this scan of my English Rose, Rosa “A Shropshire Lad’. It blooms profusely and with Rosemary no longer around or anybody visiting me to see my garden I had no compunction in snipping these 8 blooms. This rose is a healthy one and of all the roses I have ever had it is the one with the most handsome new leaves which are a reddish maroon.

I never did meet A.E. Houseman but in our Noon Thursdays at the Railway Club there was a poet dear to me called Peter Trower. Some knew him as the logging poet. He had a fondness for Houseman and for A Shropshire Lad.

Peter Trower

This blog on this sad Tuesday I dedicate to that man I appreciated and loved – Peter Trower.