This came from correspondant Southern Fresh. It is not from the imagist school, like the last two, but fairly good. It is by Charles Causley, who only died in 2003. His obituary reads:

Charles Causley, who died on Tuesday aged 86, was among the most important British poets of his generation.

Though popular – no other living British poet of his distinction commanded so diverse a readership – he was resolutely untrendy. He belonged to a conservative countertradition that stressed the national character of its poetry and the vital inspiration of popular forms such as folk songs, hymns and, especially, ballads – he was, in his day, probably the finest writer of ballads in English.

I assume this is copyright: he has a trust that supports poetry. I will not quote the entire thing.

A Ballad for Katharine of Aragon (buried in Peterhead Cathedral)
…
The olive tree in winter
Casts her banner down
And the priest in white and scarlet
Comes up from the muddy town.
O never more will Jumper
Watch the Flying Scot go by
His funeral knell was a six-inch shell
Singing across the sky.
…
O shall I leap in the river
And knock upon paradise door
For a gunner of twenty-seven and a half
And a queen of twenty-four?
From the almond-tree by the river
I watch the sky with a groan
For Jumper and Kate are always out late
And I lie here alone.