My Blog

Many time Man lives and dies,

Between his two eternities,

That of race and that of soul,

And ancient Ireland knew it all,

Wheter man die in his bed

On the rifle knocks him dead,

A brief parting from those dear

Is the worst Man have to fear.

Though Grave-diggers’ toil is long,

Sharp their spades their muscles strong,

They but thrust their buried men

Back in the human man again…

Our birth is..but a sleep and forgetting,

The soul that rises with us, Our life’s star

Hath had elsewhere its setting,

And Cometh from afar,

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God who is our home,

Heaven lies about us in our infancy !