The good news in 1547 in Britain was that the law was amended to end the practice of boiling criminals to death. The bad news was that the punishment was changed to burning them at the stake.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I cannot go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there, And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree, but who can tell us how? The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair; I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do To you and me; so take the lively air, And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know. What falls away is always. And is near. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go.
2 comments:
Out of the frying pan into the fire?
Six of one, half dozen of the other.
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