THE EARLY MORNING
By Hilaire Belloc
The moon on the one hand, the dawn on the other:
The moon is my sister, the dawn is my brother,
The moon on my left and the dawn on my right.
My brother, good morniing: my sister, good night.
THE PROPHET LOST IN THE HILLS
AT EVENING
By Hilaire Belloc
Strong God which made the topmost stars
To circulate and keep their course,
Remember me; whom all the bars
Of sense and dreadful fate enforce.
Above me in your heights and tall,
Impassable the summits freeze,
Below the haunted waters call
Impassable beyond the trees.
I hunger and I have no bread.
My gourd is empty of the wine.
Surely the footsteps of the dead
Are shuffling softly close to mine!
It darkens. I have lost the ford.
There is a change on all things made.
The rocks have evil faces, Lord,
And I am awfully afraid.
