Overheard On A Saltmarsh

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  Nymph, nymph, what are your beads? Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them? Give them me. No. Give them me. Give them me. No. Then I will howl all night in the reeds, Lie in the mud and howl for them. Goblin, why do you love them so? They are better than stars or water, Better than voices of winds that sing, Better than any man's fair daughter, Your green glass beads on a silver ring. Hush, I stole them out of the moon. Give me your beads, I want them. No. I will howl in the deep lagoon For your green glass beads, I love them so. Give them me. Give them. No. - Harold Monro (1879 - 1932)

"Prayer" by Alexander Solzhenitsyn

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credit: travelblog.org
"How easy it is
for me to live with you, Lord.
How easy it is to believe in you
when my mind reels from not understanding,
or when my mind weakens–
when the most intelligent people cannot think
beyond the evening and do not know
what must be done tomorrow.
You convey to me the
lucid assurance that you exist,
that you will see to it that not all paths
toward good will be closed.
At the peak of earthly renown
I look back with amazement at
that road which by no stretch of the imagination
I could have devised–
A remarkable road through despair
which has led me here
where I too have been able
to send mankind
reflections of your rays–
As for what I
won’t have time or ability for–
This means that you have
reserved it for others."

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