Now, now and now
Northern sky over me,
Sun filtering through
Grey summer haze,
Swifts feeding high,
Two by two
Looping and diving,
Their new throats utter
Remembered voices.
In this old garden
Flowers bloom on
That my mother grew
And her mother before,
Sweet-williams and pansies,
The little white rose
The Jacobites wore.
Southernwood
And scent of briar
Spread on the evening
Memory of joy
That is always new.
Those sweet fore-mothers
Lived in this place
That has no ending,
These flowers were theirs,
This northern summer,
These swifts that fly
In fair weather high
In the delicate air.
Was their July 
Milder than mine,
Their sky purer
Than over me now
As history darkens?
Were their hearts lighter,
Being innocent
Of what was to come
In the world I know?
Or is it I
Who for them see
This ageless beauty 
Made anew
Because they hoped
For such a day
As I live now,
Because they gave,
Life after life,
The words of song
To a secret joy
That in them grew?