Such was their practice,
a heathen hope; Hell possessed
their hearts and minds: the Maker was unknown to them,
the Judge of all actions, the Almighty was unheard of,
they knew not how to praise the Prince of Heaven,
the Wielder of Glory. Woe to him who must
in terrible trial entrust his soul
to the embrace of the burning, banished from thought
of change or comfort! Cheerful the man
able to look to the Lord at his death-day,
to find peace in the Father’s embrace!– From Beowulf, translated by Michael Alexander
poem
To Ash
Will ash
Be sifted through
To raise the shaking sparks
And burn the fields and forests all
To ash?
To Any One by George MacDonald
To Any One
Go not forth to call Dame Sorrow
From the dim fields of Tomorrow;
Let her roam there all unheeded,
She will come when she is needed;
Then, when she draws near thy door,
She will find God there before.– By George MacDonald
Colours on the Brown
Leaves are coming down:
They come to meet the dark brown,
And show it colours.– Patrick Lauser
A Sapling
A Sapling
A rod of fineness and fertile worth
Pointing by feet the center of earth,
Questing downward and into the light
A rising spear for darkening fight.
A wrist’s girth, fitting grip for the hand,
Prepares to glory over the land.
Yet now between two stakes bending hard
Beneath a rough sky blank and unstarred,
Smooth as the sprig a straight standing staff
Threaded by a high, strengthening laugh;
Its sap rises from the horizon,
Star like, in the face of Time’s poison,
Yet now weary for but the grace to live.
God’s blessing then for any that give
Guiding skill to bend this thrashing rod
Along the upward path to our God.– Patrick Lauser
Nightly Cry the Beasts
Nightly cry the beasts
Close your doors before your eyes
Sleep through the huntings.– Patrick Lauser
Hope and Patience by George MacDonald
Hope and Patience
An unborn bird lies crumpled and curled,
A-dreaming of the world.Round it, for castle-wall, a shell
Is guarding it well.Hope is the bird with its dim sensations;
The shell that keeps it alive is Patience.– George MacDonald
A Wind in the Heart
A Wind in the Heart
Breathes a token of Fear,
Darkness builds his Art
And lays foundations here.
While hopeless in strife
He has wounded me sore,
In the Light of Life
There is opened a Door.
– Patrick Lauser
Intra Muros
INTRA MUROS
At last ’tis gone, the fever of the day —
Thank God, there comes an end to everything;
Under the night cloud’s deepened shadowing,
The noises of the city drift away
Thro’ sultry streets and alleys, and the gray
Fogs ’round the great cathedral rise and cling.
I long and long, but no desire will bring
Against my face the keen wind salt with spray.O, far away, green waves, your voices call ;
Your cool lips kiss the wild and weedy shore ;
And out upon the sea line sails are brown —
White sea birds, crying, hover — soft shades fall —
Deep waters dimple ’round the dripping oar,
And last rays light the little fishing town.– Mary C. Gillington
The Moment Thought
A hand
On the shoulder
Laid in purposeful rest
Says a word in silent fullness
And peace.
– Patrick Lauser