It was twice visited by Sir Walter Scott
Once as a young man, when he was in love
But still lamed by paralysis; he thought
Of that first visit when he saw above
Him the huge stone edifice, and carved the name
Of her whom he had loved in turf
Which grows there still: So when we tread
Light-heartedly or reverently across the same
Greensward, or its descendant, where the dead
Lie waiting for whatever or for nothing
We could do worse than mind of Scott, thinking:
A good activity for visitors to spend
Quiet Sunday afternoons, considering the end
And the beginning of life. If they (or you) look up
High or get tickets to ascend the tower
I can't remember now how many steps
Wind round and up and up - it seems an hour
But really just five minutes till the top;
Then you can gaze for many miles around,
Look at the farms that for centuries
Have stood there, lain there and have found
Sufficient to feed the people and themselves.
Turn west, and in town you hear the distant-seeming sound
Of traffic, or church bells ringing the chimes
And think of supermarkets where the shelves
Are daily stocked and emptied: how much better here
To while away a summer afternoon.
I often think, when looking at St Rule's
Of those young people (mostly male), adventurous,
Even foolhardy who came up at night
And, following the human urge to risk
Danger where it presents itself, like fools
Stood on the parapet, (now fenced to stop
Such goings-on), over-balanced to drop
Like plunging birds, or stones through the half-light.
With a basilisk
Stare, stiff, unyielding, they lie on the grass
Or grave-stones, where the mourners pass.
St Rule's Tower is a place to pause: you ought
To consider whether all comes to naught -
I don't know. Anyway, whatever you
Decide to do, do it with all your might
Just in case you, like Walter, vanish overnight;
But if you leave something worthwhile behind
Like friends, or books, life's aim has been defined
And part achieved: what survives of us is mind.
Again, not the whole answer - Larkin gave
Another: Love survives the grave.
That's true as well, for as we in life behave
So people will remember us: some good, some bad,
Fun to be with, a bastard, rather sad -
These partial judgments lead to this refrain:
We might do better if we'd the chance again.
