January 20
Companions of the Way (Evening)Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.
O F fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill, Complain no more; for these, O heart,
Direct the random of the will As rhymes direct the rage of art.
The lute's fixt fret, that runs athwart The strain and purpose of the string, For governance and nice consort Doth bar his wilful wavering.
The dark hath many dear avails; The dark distils divinest dews; The dark is rich with nightingales, With dreams, and with the heavenly Muse.
Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chill, Complain not thou, O heart; for these Bank-in the current of the will To uses, arts, and charities.
SIDNEY LANIER
LOVE