Lawrence Hall
[email protected]Dispatches for the Colonial Office
The World is Passing By
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
-Gray, “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard”
Full moon at dusk, a walking stick, the lane
The neighborhood ‘possum on his supper hour
Bumbling and stumbling to see what the cats have left
Little frogs chanting their Vespers hymns in choir
The evening star as the sanctuary lamp
Advising us of the Presence in the rising mist
The ‘possum has not paused to give his thanks
So I will pause and give thanks in his place
Full moon at dusk, my walking stick, the lane
A fig for the world!
This is what we gain