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FOR TEDUM (B.8.7.78) WHO DIED AT ETON COLLEGE (15.3.93)

But one brief flash and he was gone
The young tree, growing e’re so fast
Planted in the joy of summer
Watered through a mellow autumn
And cut in a brutish field
In the harshness of despairing winter
Lending a personal meaning altogether
To Shakespeare’s ides of march.

Oh my lovely young oak,
Could I but see you once again
E’en in my dreams forlorn
Life would become a season of blossoms
Beautiful, promising and sensuous
Enlivening this languishing prison.

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