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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









Fancy was it, or wind at most

That rapped upon my door?

I rise, a not unwilling host,

And look out on the moor.


Star-hushed, the gold-horizoned night

Lies luminously deep,

And nothing earthly is in sight

Save the great hills asleep;


No chuckle from a startled grouse

Nor pee-witís fretting falls,

But something round about the house

Importunately calls,


That calling, cannot shape the word,

And, knocking, is not seen,

Yet will not pass my house unheard,

For all a worldís between.


My brother self who, night and day,

With lovely Death doth dwell,

And needeth silence for a way

And night his news to tell.


Come in, come in, 0 brother mine

Though the heartís fire burn low,

My spirit hath sore need of thine

Reality to know.


Rend me with wisdomís piercing bliss

Thy soul discarnate girds;

Hurt me with lifeís sharp flowering kiss

Too meaningful for words.


Then, brother, if the frontier calls

And if you will, Good-bye!

Leave me to love these simple walls

And earthís prosaic sky.



Copyright © 2008 [Fen Tyler]