I rose from dreamless hours and sought the morn That beat upon my window: from the sill I watched sweet lands, where Autumn light newborn Swayed through the trees and lingered on the hill. If things so lovely are, why labour still To dream of something more than this I see? Do I remember tales of Galilee, I who have slain my faith and freed my will? Let me forget dead faith, dead mystery, Dead thoughts of things I cannot comprehend. Enough the light mysterious in the tree, Enough the friendship of my chosen friend.
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chiming
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Date: October 9th, 2010 09:15 pm (UTC)From:That beat upon my window: from the sill
I watched sweet lands, where Autumn light newborn
Swayed through the trees and lingered on the hill.
If things so lovely are, why labour still
To dream of something more than this I see?
Do I remember tales of Galilee,
I who have slain my faith and freed my will?
Let me forget dead faith, dead mystery,
Dead thoughts of things I cannot comprehend.
Enough the light mysterious in the tree,
Enough the friendship of my chosen friend.
But maybe not in a 'faith' school...