WAITING
I WILL be silent, But in the hush My heart will sing Like a hermit thrush.
I will be silent I’ll say no word, My love shall burn Like a flame unstirred.
I will be silent, My joy I’ll hide, And wait as the sand For the turn of tide.
THE LAST FURROW
(On Edward Calvert’s Woodcut)
AND suddenly my field was Heaven: I saw a shepherd stand On the edge of my ploughed land, And every dusty furrow shone with gold. And every leaf and blade of grass Whose common loveliness I had let pass Now did unfold New beauties to my sight. God was that Shepherd garmented in light.
And there was singing: In a beechen wood Three maidens stood And with their music praised God In a sweet and pleasant hymn. They danced, three maidens white and slim A measure, delicately trod. He loves no sad austerities, God is well praised by nymphs beneath the trees.