SPACE IN THE CITY

WINCHESTER

New Year 2015

Poems read by Canon Jeremy Davies during his talk on 21 January 2015

Prayer

Prayer the church’s banquet, angel’s age,
         God’s breath in man returning to his birth,
         The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth
Engine against th’ Almighty, sinner’s tow’r,
         Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
         The six-days world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;
Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
         Exalted manna, gladness of the best,
         Heaven in ordinary, man well drest,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
         Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood,
         The land of spices;  something understood.
George Herbert (1593–1633) 

God’s Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed.  Why do men then now not reck his rod?
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.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs –
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889) 

Prayer

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself.  So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.
Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.
Pray for us now.  Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town.  Then dusk, and someone calls
a child’s name as though they named their loss.
Darkness outside.  Inside, the radio’s prayer –
Rockall.  Malin.  Dogger.  Finisterre.
Carol Ann Duffy (born 1955) 
from Mean Time [Anvil, 1994] 

Space in the City is an ecumenical venture organised by lay, licensed, ordained and associate members of Winchester’s city churchesSt Bartholomew and St Lawrence with St Swithun-upon-Kingsgate, St Peter’s and the United Church.


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