We're all a bit wiser from our time in lonely places
— L.P.
(John Henry Bradshaw)
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.
—
The Old Astronomer
(Sarah Williams)
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
— God's Grandeur
(Gerard Manley Hopkins)
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
— Anthem
(Leonard Cohen)