Saturday, March 12, 2005

In Prison

I cried out for the pain of man,
I cried out for my bitter wrath
Against the hopeless life that ran
For ever in a circling path
From death to death since all began;
Till on a summer night
I lost my way in the pale starlight
And saw our planet, far and small,
Through endless depths of nothing fall
A lonely pin-prick spark of light,
Upon the wide, enfolding night,
With leagues on leagues of stars above it,
And powdered dust of stars below-
Dead things that neither hate nor love it
Not even their own loveliness can know,
Being but cosmic dust and dead.
And if some tears be shed,
Some evil God have power,
Some crown of sorrow sit
Upon a little world for a little hour-
Who shall remember? Who shall care for it?
~C.S. Lewis, Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics
(published under the pseudonym Clive Hamilton) (1919)


On this day:

1919 Lewis delivers his first paper, on William Morris,
to the Martlets Society

1 Comment(s):

At Sat Mar 12, 05:49:00 AM EST, Blogger Arevanye said...

Ok, I'm pretty sure that they've been messing with the way the Blogger editor works. Previously I've been able to have the lines wrap around my pictures automatically, and also have my longer lines wrap within the text box.

Not today. And the font has changed too. Took me about six tries to make this post readable! Anyone else finding that the editor is acting up?

As far as comments on this poem, it just struck me how angry C.S. Lewis felt at this point in his life, and how small and insignificant he thought that mankind was in the great scheme of things.


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