. L'eterna misericordia e la vedova in Bye street. m spento. La fore-cavallo piegato la sua testa e ritagliate. Quindi le catene di ritegno, le bronzine jingle. Il lean redini raccogliere attraverso il cringle. Le figure si muovono contro il cielo. L'onda di argilla si rompe come andare da. 1 Ci inginocchiamo in terreni fangosi incolto. 86 L'eterna misericordia sapevo che Cristo era lì con Callow,che Cristo era lì in piedi con me,che Cristo aveva insegnato a me cosa essere,che dovrei aratro, e come ho plowedMy Salvatore Cristo sarebbe cantare ad alta voce.e come ho guidato le zolle apartChrist sarebbe l'aratura nel mio cuore,attraverso il resto-

• Collaboratore: The Reading Room / Alamy Foto Stock
• ID dell’immagine: 2AGBP55
• Dimensioni dei file: 7,2 MB (464,1 KB Download compresso)
• Liberatorie: Modello - no | Proprietà - no
• Dimensioni: 2370 x 1055 px | 40,1 x 17,9 cm | 15,8 x 7 inches | 150dpi

Altre informazioni

Questa foto è un'immagine di pubblico dominio, il che significa che il copyright è scaduto o che il titolare del copyright ha rinunciato a tale diritto. Alamy addebita un costo per l'accesso alla copia ad alta risoluzione dell'immagine.

Questa immagine potrebbe avere delle imperfezioni perché è storica o di reportage.

. The everlasting mercy and The widow in the Bye street. m stopped. The fore-horse bent his head and cropped. Then the chains chack, the brasses jingle. The lean reins gather through the cringle. The figures move against the sky. The clay wave breaks as they go by. 1 kneeled there in the muddy fallow. 86 THE EVERLASTING MERCY I knew that Christ was there with Callow, That Christ was standing there with me, That Christ had taught me what to be, That I should plough, and as I ploughedMy Saviour Christ would sing aloud.And as I drove the clods apartChrist would be ploughing in my heart, Through rest-harrow and bitter roots.Through all my bad lifes rotten fruits. 0 Christ who holds the open gate, 0 Christ who drives the furrow straight, O Christ, the plough, 0 Christ, the laughter Of holy white birds flying after, - Lo, all my hearts field red and torn. And Thou wilt bring the young green corfi. The young green corn divinely springing^ The young green corn forever singing; And when the field is fresh and fair . Thy blessed feet shall glitter there.. Up the slow slope a team came bowing, Old Callow at his autumn ploughing, Old Callow, stooped above the hales, Ploughing the stubble into wales. THE EVERLASTING MERCY 87 And we will walk the weeded field, And tell the golden harvests yield, The corn that makes the holy breadBy which the soul of man is fed.The holy bread, the food unpriced, Thy everlasting mercy, Christ. The share will jar on many a stone.Thou wilt not let me stand alone;And I shall feel (thou wilt not fail).Thy hand on mine upon the hale.Near Bullen Bank, on Gloucester Road, Thy everlasting mercy showedThe ploughman patient on the hillForever there, forever still.Ploughing the hill with steady yokeOf pine-trees lightning-struck and broke.Ive marked the May Hill ploughman stayThere on his hill, day after dayDriving his team against the sky. 88 THE EVEBLA8TINQ MEBCY While men and women live and die.And now and then he seems to stoopTo clear the coulter with the scoop, Or

Parole chiave associate all'immagine

• bookauthormasefiel
• bookcentury1900
• bookdecade1910
• bookyear1919