Loftier

In answer to your question, Toffeeapple, yes, our Edinburgh little ones are tall, especially Biggest Granddaughter. They have tall grandfathers and a tall father, though we're extremely medium-to-short in my ancestral family.

The other day we set out to recce a walk for our group to do today. The weather was lovely. Here, I pushed my phone through the fence to take a photo of a small part of the extensive private gardens in Queen Street - you can get a key only if you live or work in one of the streets looking on to them. The houses are all very expensive, so it's a pretty exclusive place to walk your rich dog.

When I rule the country, these gardens will be opened up to the public - though only those who don't drop litter or spray graffiti.

Anyway, we plunged down to Stockbridge and walked along the river,

 along the back of the lower New Town

through Inverleith

to Leith. It was splendid. Sun, blue skies, balmy breezes. 

On Thursday we walked in the Botanics. Spring was everywhere.

Fluttering and dancing and all that.

And then today - the day of the walk for which we'd done the recce for the group - this happened. After much emailing to and fro, we decided to cancel the outing. Thanks, weather.

But it's not important compared to other things that happen in this problematical world.

At one of my choirs, we're singing John Ireland's setting of part of a poem by  J Addington Symonds. Depressingly, though Symonds was born in 1840, his vision is still very far from coming to pass (though I'm not so sure about the "man's lordship" bit - maybe that has, at least for the moment, and it's not entirely a good thing). I'm not saying it's deathless poetry but because we've been practising it, it's fixed fairly firmly in my head. And whenever we sing it, I feel his vision seems so desirable (though with some women around and a bit of patchwork).

So. Roll on that loftier race.

From A Vista

Say, heart, what will the future bring
To happier men when we are gone?
What golden days shall dawn for them,
Transcending all we gaze upon?

These things shall be! A loftier race
Than e'er the world hath known shall rise
With flame of freedom in their souls,
And light of science in their eyes.

They shall be gentle, brave and strong
Not to shed human blood, but dare
All that may plant man's lordship firm
O'er earth and fire and sea and air.

Nation with nation, land with land
Unarmed shall live as comrades free;
In every heart and brain shall throb
The pulse of one fraternity.

They shall be simple in their homes,
And splendid in their public ways,
Filling the mansions of the state
With music and with hymns of praise.

In aisles majestic, halls of pride,
In gardens, groves and galleries,
Manhood and age and youth shall meet
To grow by converse inly wise.

New arts shall bloom of loftier mould,
And mightier music thrill the skies,
And every life shall be a song
When all the earth is Paradise.

These things - they are no dream - shall be
For happier men when we are gone:
Those golden days for them shall dawn
Transcending all we gaze upon.