Mark Heathcote

Love, there's an ancient quarry where bluebells grow
Like sapphires in the melting snow
Like quartz-clocks they tell the time is spring
If ‘ere you'd listen, you might just here them ring
Like a mountain Elysian blue spring,
Oh darling do you hear an after-ring!
And if so take mine own!
For now I've loved all summers are postpone.