In the Monastery
Norreys Jephson O’Conor
COLD is the wind to-night, and rough the sea,
Too rough for even the daring Dane to find
A landing-place upon the frozen lea.
Cold is the wind.
The blast sweeps round the chapel from behind,
Making the altar-light flare fitfully,
While I must kneel and pray with troubled mind.
Patrick and Brigid, I have prayed to ye!
The night is over, and my task resigned
To Colum. Though God’s own dwelling shelter me,
Cold is the wind.
Here's a winter-y poem to match the winter weather we're having in Charlottesville. I love the last line.
2 comments:
Abby and I were cold as we walked the dogs the other day in freezing, windy weather. She was trying to remember how the Aes Sedai kept the cold from bothering them. They still were aware of the cold...that reminds me of the last line also.
I think of how difficulties and stresses rage around me and I can stay calm or at least functional, because God is with me.
I was thinking the same thing, God won't always calm the wind and the sea but still offers us shelter.
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