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Farewell

Chapter 5: PRAYERS
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About This Book

A varied collection of poems and short prose pieces that celebrate the Cotswold and Gloucestershire countryside while exploring love, longing, and spiritual yearning. The poems range from concise nature lyrics—observing rivers, hedges, birds, and seasonal light—to sonnets and free-verse meditations that ask for vision, joy, and fellowship. Several pieces foreground homesickness and the solace of ritual and local customs, others offer wry or reflective commentary on mortality, vanity, and daily life. Prose poems and songs intersperse formal verse, producing a sequence that alternates celebratory rural description, quiet grief, religious petition, and gentle humour.

NATURE POEMS

PRAYERS

I
THAT MY EYES MAY BE MADE TO SEE

God of bright colours: rainbows, peacocks,
And the shot-silk gleam of springing
Wind-shaken wheat
On rolling red-ribbed Earth:
Thou Who dost bring to birth
From out the womb
Of darkness golden flowers,
Filling the hollows
With daffodils in March,
Cowslips in April,
Dog-roses in May,
Who in the smouldering forest
Makes the huge
Red flare of Autumn:
God of all the colours
On Earth, and hues (too bright for mortal eyes)
In Paradise—
Unblind me to Thy glory,
That I may see!

II
THAT MY SOUL MAY BE SET TO DANCE

God of light dancing:
Waves and ripples
In foam and forest,
And shadows under leaves,
Lambs leaping, prancing,
Horses, dragon-flies,
Stars ...
Thou Whose eye perceives
How and in what dream-ecstasy tall reeds
Shake out brown hair and sway
Like dusky girls
Tranced in an Indian air;
Who knowest the way
Of clouds
Which glide o’er blue unflowered fields,
Scattering shadows
On golden meadows
And fields of dancing daisies:
Teach me, O Lord,
The rhythm of that joy which is Thy mind!
Make my soul dance!

III
THAT I MAY BE TAUGHT THE GESTURE OF HEAVEN

God of the steadfast line,
Who laid the curving Cotswolds on the sky:
God of the hills,
And of the lonely hollows in the hills,
And of the cloudy nipples of the mountains:
Teach me thy passionate austerity!
God of elm twigs
And of all winter trees
Etched ebony on sunset, or bright silver
Upon hard morning heavens;
Cunning shaper of ferns,
And ferns which whitely gleam on frosty windows
And snow-flakes:
God of the naked body beautifully snatched
To some swift-gestured loveliness of Heaven:
Master
Of stars,
And all beneath most passionately curbed
In Form: catch up my sprawling soul and fix it
In gesture of its lost divinity!

IV
THAT I MAY BE GIVEN FELLOWSHIP OF ANGELS AND A HAPPY HEART

God of fine fellowship in heaven and earth,
O let me share
A little of the gaiety of saints.
Sometimes let angels carelessly with robins
Sing in these Minsterworth trees.
Teach me that mirth,
Give me that happy heart, hating the thin
Blasphemous gravity of wicked men.