04.10.2008, 11:55
Tintern Abbey
When with strict clause and overbearing creed
Men cramped the truth, then, Tintern, it was well,
The hurricane of kingly passion fell
Upon thy splendour! For God's flower has need
Of light and air; and, like the thistle-seed,
Must flutter here, and there must, pausing, dwell.
Oft self, not Christ, chose out the hermit's cell,
Unfeeling use, not love, would count the bead.
Grey ruin, with thy protestant reproof,
The clouds do paint, the stars emboss thy roof,
Where stone was carved, green ivy sculptures thee;
Warm-hearted sunshine now may enter free;
And I, who crush the daisies as I kneen,
Can thank thy founders, and their purpose feel.
When with strict clause and overbearing creed
Men cramped the truth, then, Tintern, it was well,
The hurricane of kingly passion fell
Upon thy splendour! For God's flower has need
Of light and air; and, like the thistle-seed,
Must flutter here, and there must, pausing, dwell.
Oft self, not Christ, chose out the hermit's cell,
Unfeeling use, not love, would count the bead.
Grey ruin, with thy protestant reproof,
The clouds do paint, the stars emboss thy roof,
Where stone was carved, green ivy sculptures thee;
Warm-hearted sunshine now may enter free;
And I, who crush the daisies as I kneen,
Can thank thy founders, and their purpose feel.