 | Michael Villiers, Idealist |  |
184
‘M.’ TO ‘N.’
How sweet are you to me? As sweet
As dewy turf to wayworn feet;
As cooling draught of water given
To lips athirst from morn to even;
As bread and wine at Sacrament
To soul of blessed penitent.
As dewy turf to wayworn feet;
As cooling draught of water given
To lips athirst from morn to even;
As bread and wine at Sacrament
To soul of blessed penitent.
How true are you to me? As true
As swallow to the roadless blue
When spring hath wakened in his breast
Life's apture of the brooding west:
Or as the sea in his response
To that still call which is the moon's.
As swallow to the roadless blue
When spring hath wakened in his breast
Life's apture of the brooding west:
Or as the sea in his response
To that still call which is the moon's.
How near are you to me? As near
As to the earth her atmosphere;
As warp to woof when web is wove;
As strength to hope; as light to love;
As my own blood, my flesh, my breath;
As near as life, as near as death.
As to the earth her atmosphere;
As warp to woof when web is wove;
As strength to hope; as light to love;
As my own blood, my flesh, my breath;
As near as life, as near as death.
185
How far are you from me? As far
As glory of the morning-star
From Lucifer; as far as bliss
Of comradeship from Judas kiss;
As day from night: indeed more far
From me than heaven from hell you are.
As glory of the morning-star
From Lucifer; as far as bliss
Of comradeship from Judas kiss;
As day from night: indeed more far
From me than heaven from hell you are.
| Michael Villiers, Idealist | |