Lightless

January 11 2013

Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.

[Footnote: Housman, A. E.: A Shropshire Lad, xlviii.]

A Study of History, Vol VI, OUP, 1939

This entry was posted on January 11 2013 at 12:35 pm and is filed under Reality.

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