Francis Thompson

The Summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July.

The Summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July.

I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
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I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings read more

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone,
And partings yet to be.

Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others pain And perish read more

Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others pain And perish in our own.

There is no expeditious road
To pack and label men for God,
And save them by the read more

There is no expeditious road
To pack and label men for God,
And save them by the barrel-load.
Some may perchance, with strange surprise,
Have blundered into Paradise.