To one kneeling down no word came,Only the wind`s song, saddening the lip`s
Of the grave saints, rigid in glass;
Or the dry whisper of unseen wings,
Bats not Angels, in the high roof.
R.S.Thomas.
Thursday, 30 April 2009
In a Country Church.
To one kneeling down no word came,Only the wind`s song, saddening the lip`s
Of the grave saints, rigid in glass;
Or the dry whisper of unseen wings,
Bats not Angels, in the high roof.
R.S.Thomas.
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