At Tara today in this fateful hour
I place all Heaven with its power,
And the sun with its brightness,
And the snow with its whiteness,
And fire with all the strength it hath,
And lightning with its rapid wrath,
And the winds with their swiftness along their path,
And the sea with its deepness
And the rocks with their steepness
And the earth with its starkness:
All these I place,
By God’s almighty help and grace,
Between myself and the powers of darkness.

(found in a bookshop in Kent, in a book of Celtic verse)

In a lonely cottage lives a mother and daughter. They are poor as poor can be, so the girl goes off to find work. She sets off, and finds a great mansion. There the lord asks her ‘What do you want?’
She replies ‘I am seeking work.’ ‘I will give thee work’ the lord says, ‘to find the leaves that hung but never grew.’

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by Jean Giono

FOR A HUMAN CHARACTER to reveal truly exceptional qualities, one must have the good fortune to be able to observe its performance over many years. If this performance is devoid of all egoism, if its guiding motive is unparalleled generosity, if it is absolutely certain that there is no thought of recompense and that, in addition, it has left its visible mark upon the earth, then there can be no mistake.

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by Herman Hesse

You will come to me too one day,
You will not forget me,
And the torment ends,
And the fetter breaks.

Still, you seem strange and far,
Dear brother Death,
You stand like a cold star
Above my trouble.

But some day you will be near
And full of flames.
Come, beloved, I am here,
Take me, I am yours.

1.

He found some beautiful, sparkling pearls,
And gave them to me to keep,
But Alas! I can’t find now where I kept them,
I have searched every corner, even in the bazaar;
What to do, o my friend?
What will I give, when the beloved asks?

2.

A woman carrying fire on her head,
Hopelessly waiting for her lover;
Her body melting, can’t seem to control herself,
Crying, crying till the dawn.

by John McGrath

And when our streets are green again
When metalled roads are green

And girls walk barefoot through the weeds
Of Regent Street, St. Martin’s Lane

And children hide in factories
Where Burdock bloom and Vetch and rust.

And Elms and Oaks and Chestnut trees
Are tall again and hope is lost

When up The Strand foxes glide
And hedgehogs sniff and wildcats yell

And golden Orioles come back
To flash through Barnes and Clerkenwell

When governments and industries
Lie choked by weeds in fertile rain

For sure the few who stay alive
Will laugh and grow to love again

by Rabindranath Tagore from Gitanjali

Where the mind is without fear

And the head is held high;

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments

by narrow domestic walls;

Where words come out from the depth of truth;

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way

into the dreary desert sand of habit;

Where the mind is led forward by thee

into ever widening thought and action –

Into that heaven of freedom,

Father, let my country awake.

by Hugh Montgomery

The Jesters sometimes make their way
Past Wembury beach to Heybrook Head,
And in these places sift the sands
With patience, through their gentle hands,
In hope of finding on the shore
Some scarps of silver washed ashore:
Return, though, laughing if the beach
Has kept its treasure out of reach.

And if you take a stroll one day,
You too can walk to Heybrook Bay.
But if you search all day and find
No more than shells, then never mind.
It’s not just fools, but wise men too
Who know to value what is true:
The warmth of friendship – that’s the best,
Worth more than any treasure chest.

(to be sung)

by Penelope Sayles

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