The Gates of Padstow

Gates of Padstow is a project that I have been working on for over a year, it is by no means finished, but its time to start showing the images.

A gate or gateway is a point of entry to a space enclosed by walls, or a moderately sized opening in some sort of fence.

churchgate

Church gates

 

Stile gates looking out to Newland Island

Stile gates looking out to Newland Island

dennis cove

Dennis Cove

_MG_0508

Portmissen

coastpath

Coast path

crugmeer

Lellizick

dinas

Saints Way

grenville gate

Grenville Rd

IMG_2077

Trip Troll

monument

Monument at Dinas

monument2

Walking to Jury park

penrose

Penrose

school

Padstow school

stile

Stile field

tregirls

Tregirls Lane

tressalyn

Tregella Ln

trevone

Trevone Bay

trip troll1057

Crugmeer

trip troll_1056

Trip Troll

wall1

Harbour wall in the morning, tide in.

wall2

Harbour wall in the evening, Tide out.

penjolly

Penjolly cottage

pigs

Tregirls Ln

penalty2

Camel Trail

Where, where is the gate that once used to divide
The old shaded lane from the grassy road side.
I like not this gate, so gay and bright,
Not its glittering latch and its trelliss of white;
It is pretty I own, yet oh dearer by far,
Was the red rusted hinge, and the weather warp’d bar,
Here are fashion, and form of a modernized date,
But I’d rather have looked on that old farm-gate.

‘Twas there where my sisters would gather to play,
In the shadows of twilight or sunny midday;
How we’d laugh and run wild ‘mid those hillocks of sand,
Where temptations existed no child could withstand;
But to swing on the gate rails, to clamber and ride,
Was the utmost of pleasure of glory, and pride:
And the car of the victor or carriage of state,
Never carried such hearts as that old farm-gate.

Oh! fair is the barrier taking its place.
But it darkens a picture my soul longed to trace.
I sigh to behold the rough staple and hasp,
And the rails that my growing hand scarcely could clasp.
Oh! how strangely the warm spirit grudges to part
With the commonest relic once linked to the heart;
And the brightest of fortune, the kindliest fate,
Would not banish my love for the old farm-gate.

“The Old Farm Gate” (1840) A Ballad.

Words by Eliza Cook  Dedicated to Mrs. J. L. Tucker

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s