Bishop Stephen was delighted with his visit to the parish last weekend and particularly by the welcome he received. The International Lunch was as successful as ever. Great effort goes into its preparation, and so a big thank you to those who put so much into the continued success of these cross-cultural gatherings. And, the food was wonderful too.
Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayest in me behold by William Shakespeare.
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see'st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Read by Jenny Grehan-Bradley at the graveside of her mother, Bridget.