Poems By Frederick William Faber: Third edition |
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Poems | ||
1
PREFACE.
Blame not my verse if echoes of church bellsWith every change of thought or dream are twining,
Fetching a murmuring sameness from the fells,
And lakes, and rivers with their inland shining.
And marvel not in these loose drifting times
If anchored spirits in their blythest motion
Dip to their anchors veiled within the ocean,
Catching too staid a measure for their rhymes.
An Age comes on, which came three times of old,
When the enfeebled nations shall stand still
To be by Christian science shaped at will;
And the fresh Church, rejecting heathen mould,
Shall draw her types from Europe's middle night,
Well-pleased if such good darkness be her light.
F. W. F.
Poems | ||