According To The Mighty Working Poem by Thomas Hardy
According To The Mighty Working
I
When moiling seems at cease
In the vague void of night-time,
And heaven's wide roomage stormless
Between the dusk and light-time,
And fear at last is formless,
We call the allurement Peace.
II
Peace, this hid riot, Change,
This revel of quick-cued mumming,
This never truly being,
This evermore becoming,
This spinner's wheel onfleeing
Outside perception's range.
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4/18/2024 11:21:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Oh peace where you are......playing hide and seek......you are so illusory...............wonderful...............