Fear and Faith

A potent wand does sorrow wield,

Repentance is a tender sprite,

But if by chance your faith should fail

regard the crescent moon so bright.

Whose voice can stop the nimble clouds

Or eye can see the wind?

which ear can hear the silent song,

whose touch has never sinned?

Whether among the winds we strive

that cuts along the hawthorn fence

in savage wildness, winter's ice,

We must rely on future tense.

The crab, the scorpion and the bull

along with scattered stars,

hidden behind mercury

the ruddy face of mars.

Temptation lurks among all words

while white dust sleeps along the lane,

Darklings among the boughs and leaves

account for the crimson stain.

Paths of wickedness and woe,

The noise of danger in your ears,

some ugly witchcraft might be about,

Perhaps the music of the spheres.

Yet man's heart is a holy place

among the lovely shades of things

Not given to sadness or to gloom,

Regal as palaces and kings.

And nature still will find a way

to bring us back to God,

by ferry of a flying horse,

no ghost more softly ever trod.