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Page Last Updated: 07/10/2009

  

A Service of Thanksgiving for the life of Henry Ensor Fossett Lock

1921 - 2009

The floral decorations in church were spectacular in delicate shades of creams and greens; the family flowers on the coffin echoed these colours.

Henry and Helen's four children and nine grandchildren were all in attendance; some of whom had flown in from Australia and USA.  Tributes were given by Richard and Edward Lock and a reading by Amanda Lock and grandson Anthony Lock.  A blessing was read by granddaughter Caroline Lock.

Richard Lock told of his father and grandfather taking tea with the author Thomas Hardy at his Max Gate home;  "a confidence that neither Henry or Thomas Hardy ever spoke about."  He went on to say that Henry's office, in his old home at 53 High West Street, was in fact his childhood bedroom.  I remember Henry telling me once that his new sitting room at Somerleigh Court was indeed the room he was born in! 

The congregation, particularly the Rotarians present, were amused to learn that the reason that Henry became a Rotarian was because he wanted to know who was running Dorchester!  How Henry loved Dorchester. 

Edward Lock spoke amongst other things, of his father's love of technology and how Henry's grandchildren were impressed by his computer skills.  Whilst his children were discussing important matters with their parents, Henry was busy contemplating whether he should register and maintain a presence on Facebook!

The most poignant reading was given by Furse Swann; a poem written by Thomas Hardy

'Regret Not Me'

Regret not me;
Beneath the sunny tree
I lie uncaring, slumbering peacefully

Swift as the light
I flew my faery flight
Ecstatically I moved, and feared no night

I did not know
That heydays fade and go,
But deemed that what was would always be so.

I skipped at morn
Between the yellowing corn,
thinking it good and glorious to be born

I ran at eves
Among the piled- up sheaves,
Dreaming, 'I grieve not, therefore nothing grieves'

Now soon will come
The apple, pear, and plum,
And hinds will sing, and autumn insects hum.

Again you will fare
To cider-makings rare,
And junketing's; but I shall not be there.

Yet gaily sing
until the pewter ring
Those songs we sang when we went gipsying.

And lightly dance
Some triple-timed romance
In coupled figures, and forget mischance:

And mourn not me
Beneath the yellowing tree;
For I shall mind not, slumbering peacefully.

Amongst those paying tribute to Henry were a great many representatives from the professions in Dorchester as well as many friends – all of whom will miss him.

Pauline Camm