The end of the poem

After dropping Catie off this morning I took Jake up to Wittenham Clumps as I often do. I haven't visited my old friend on Castle Hill, The Poem Tree for a little while and a sad sight awaited me...it's old dead wood has finally given up the struggle against time and decay and all that's left is this pile of spongy, rotted timber. The Beech trees were planted here in the 1740's so the tree was already a century old when local poet Joseph Tubbs, carved the following on it in 1844:

As up the hill with labr'ing steps we tread
Where the twin Clumps their sheltering branches spread
The summit gain'd, at ease reclining lay
and all around the wide spread scene survey
Point out each object and instructive tell
The various changes that the land befel.
Where the low bank the country wide surrounds
That ancient earthwork form'd old Murcia's bounds.
In misty distance see the barrow heave,
There lies forgotten lonely Culchelm's grave.
Around this hill the ruthless Danes intrenched,
and these fair plains with gory slaughter drench'd,
While at our feet where stands that stately tower
In days gone by uprose the Roman power
And yonder, there where Thames smooth waters glide
In later days appeared monastic pride.
Within that field where lies the grazing herd
Huge walls were found, some coffins disinter'd
Such is the course of time, the wreck which fate
And awful doom award the earthly great."