The everlasting mercy

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Sidgwick & Jackson, 1914 - Poetry - 230 pages
 

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Page 54 - To get the whole world out of bed And washed, and dressed, and warmed, and fed, To work, and back to bed again, Believe me, Saul, costs worlds of pain.
Page 87 - Christ who holds the open gate, O Christ who drives the furrow straight, O Christ, the plough, O Christ, the laughter Of holy white birds flying after, Lo, all my heart's field red and torn, And Thou wilt bring the young green corn, The young green corn divinely springing, The young green corn forever singing...
Page 59 - Lord, give to men who are old and rougher The things that little children suffer, And let keep bright and undefiled The young years of the little child. I pat his head at edge of street And gi'm my second pear to eat. Right under lamp, I pat his head, "I'll stay till mother come," I said, [156] And stay I did, and joked and talked, And shoppers wondered as they walked.
Page 42 - The men who don't know to the root The joy of being swift of foot, Have never known divine and fresh The glory of the gift of flesh, Nor felt the feet exult, nor gone Along a dim road, on and on, Knowing again the bursting glows, The mating hare in April knows, Who tingles to the pads with mirth At being the swiftest thing on earth. O, if you want to know delight, Run naked in an autumn night...
Page 82 - Hulking a rabbit warm from wire. I loved to see the horses bait. I felt I walked at Heaven's gate, That Heaven's gate was opened wide Yet still the gipsies camped outside. The waste souls will prefer the wild, Long after life is meek and mild. Perhaps when man has entered in His perfect city free from sin, The campers will come past the walls With old lame horses full of galls, And waggons hung about with withies, And burning coke in tinkers' stithies, And see the golden town, and choose, And think...
Page 85 - O wet red swathe of earth laid bare, O truth, O strength, O gleaming share, O patient eyes that watch the goal, O ploughman of the sinner's soul. O Jesus, drive the coulter deep To plough my living man from sleep.
Page 77 - Out into darkness, out to night, My flaring heart gave plenty light, So wild it was there was no knowing Whether the clouds or stars were blowing ; Blown chimney pots and folk blown blind, And puddles glimmering like my mind, And chinking glass from windows banging, And inn signs swung like people hanging, And in my heart the drink unpriced, The burning cataracts of Christ. I did not think, I did not strive, The deep peace burnt my me alive ; The bolted door had broken in, I knew that I had done...
Page 211 - I'm as blind as he, As blind, as frantic, not so single, worse, Only Thy pity spared me from the curse. "Thy pity, and Thy mercy, God, did save, Thy bounteous gifts, not any grace of mine, From all the pitfalls leading to the grave, From all the death-feasts with the husks and swine. God, who hast given me all things, now make shine Bright in this sinner's heart that he may see. God, take this poor boy's spirit back to Thee.

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