copy and paste seems like all i am capable of writing in deep midwinter

February 7, 2007

It is time to go to bed and i just got home. Here is a poem I came across that I like because of the last line.


Deep midwinter, the dark centre of the year,
Wake, O earth, awake,
Out on the hills a star appears,
Here lies the way for pilgrim kings,
Three magi on an ancient path,
Black hours begin their journeyings.
Their star has risen in our hearts,
Empty thrones, abandoned fears,
Out on the hills their journey starts,
In dazzling darkness God appears.

Words: Judith Bingham

 Eh, here’s another one:

Henry Vaughan
109. Ascension-Hymn
THEY are all gone into the world of light!  
    And I alone sit lingring here;  
Their very memory is fair and bright,  
    And my sad thoughts doth clear.  
It glows and glitters in my cloudy brest          5
    Like stars upon some gloomy grove,  
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest,  
    After the Sun’s remove.  
I see them walking in an Air of glory,  
    Whose light doth trample on my days:   10
My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,  
    Meer glimering and decays.  
O holy hope! and high humility,  
    High as the Heavens above!  
These are your walks, and you have shew’d them me   15
    To kindle my cold love.  
Dear, beauteous death! the Jewel of the Just,  
    Shining no where, but in the dark;  
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust;  
    Could man outlook that mark!   20
He that hath found some fledg’d birds nest, may know  
    At first sight, if the bird be flown;  
But what fair Well, or Grove he sings in now,  
    That is to him unknown.  
And yet, as Angels in some brighter dreams   25
    Call to the soul, when man doth sleep:  
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted theams,  
    And into glory peep.  
If a star were confin’d into a Tomb  
    Her captive flames must needs burn there;   30
But when the hand that lockt her up, gives room,  
    She’l shine through all the sphære.  
O Father of eternal life, and all  
    Created glories under thee!  
Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall   35
    Into true liberty.  
Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill  
    My perspective (still) as they pass,  
Or else remove me hence unto that hill,  
    Where I shall need no glass.

Leave a Reply

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

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: