Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Sunday, December 7, 2014
By Sir William Watson
I wandered far in the wold,
And after heat and glare,
I came at eve at a churchyard old:
The yew-trees seemed at prayer.
And round me was dust in dust;
And fleeting Light; and Repose;
And the infinite pathos of human trust
In a God whom no man knows.