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Bert Lutman


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The Western Towers
Gone to Earth
The Roman Well
At Ravenscar
After Sunset
An Altar at Cilurnum
A Chorister
The Great East Window
The Hunters of Banna
The Legion goes North
Lines in October
The Maiden Way
A Song of Forgetting
St Cuthbert's Quest
St Cuthbert's Windows
The Ringers
The Snail
The Street
Traveller's Joy
Wind at Night









I heard the windy woods at evening ringing

The thousand bells of Aprilís singing time;

Against the low sun there was a blackbird singing

A high passionate rhyme.


Was it his key of beauty, his angelhood,

Throwing the mindís door open, setting me free,

That all oblivious of the darkening wood

I suddenly could see,


With the seeing that vexes not our mortal eyes

Save to disclose the spiritís prismatic flame

Wherein the worlds fulfilled in silence rise?

Into that hush I came.


I saw in the gold west remotely pearled

The Light of Light, the Heaven of all skies;

Like buds, the folded beauty of the world

Was blossom in my eyes.


And through the cloudy arches of the light

I saw of Being the bright symbolic sign;

Saw down the vistaed chancels of the night

Lifeís great fulfilment shine.


The hieroglyphic of the rising stars

Spelled a lost meaning to my burning mind.

The blackbird on the silver birchís bars

His song to sleep resigned.


High in the deepening blue there burned away

A few cloud petals, still with sunset bright,

The last love touches of discarnate day

On the still mind of night.


I turned me homeward passionate to sing

The poem that would interpret the dull years;

The piercing beauty of that wayside thing

Moved my dumb heart to tears.


Yet thereís no word to say, no verse to write;

At words the gloryís gone as the sunsets go;

A wild-heart blackbirdís hidden in the light

Is all the song I know.



Copyright © 2008 [Fen Tyler]