From ‘The Dream of Gerontius’
Am I alive or dead? I am not dead, But in the body still; for I possess A sort of confidence which clings to me, That each particular organ holds its place As heretofore, combining with the rest Into one symmetry, that wraps me round, And makes me man; and surely I could move,
Did I but will it, every part of me. And yet I cannot to my sense bring home By very trial, that I have the power. ’Tis strange; I cannot stir a hand or foot, I cannot make my fingers or my lips By mutual pressure witness each to each, Nor by the eyelid’s instantaneous stroke Assure myself I have a body still. Nor do I know my very attitude, Nor if I stand, or lie, or sit, or kneel.
So much I know, not knowing how I know, That the vast universe, where I have dwelt, Is quitting me, or I am quitting it. Or I or it is rushing on the wings Of light or lightning on an onward course, And we e’en now are million miles apart. Yet ... is this peremptory severance Wrought out in lengthening measurements of space
Which grow and multiply by speed and time?
Or am I traversing infinity By endless subdivision, hurrying back From finite towards infinitesimal, Thus dying out of the expansive world?
Another marvel: some one has me fast Within his ample palm; ’tis not a grasp Such as they use on earth, but all around Over the surface of my subtle being, As though I were a sphere, and capable To be accosted thus, a uniform And gentle pressure tells me I am not Self-moving, but borne forward on my way. And hark! I hear a singing; yet in sooth I cannot of that music rightly say Whether I hear, or touch, or taste the tones. Oh, what a heart-subduing melody!
Soul
Now know I surely that I am at length Out of the body; had I part with earth, I never could have drunk those accents in, And not have worshipp’d as a god the voice That was so musical; but now I am So whole of heart, so calm, so
self-possess’d,
With such a full content, and with a sense So apprehensive and discriminant, As no temptation can intoxicate. Nor have I even terror at the thought That I am clasp’d by such a saintliness.
Soul
Take me away, and in the lowest deep There let me be,
And there in hope the lone night-watches keep,
Told out for me.
There, motionless and happy in my pain, Lone, not forlorn, –
There will I sing my sad perpetual strain, Until the morn.
There will I sing, and soothe my stricken breast,
Which ne’er can cease
To throb, and pine, and languish, till possest
Of its Sole Peace.
There will I sing my absent Lord and Love: – Take me away,
That sooner I may rise, and go above, And see Him in the truth of everlasting day.
A historical introduction and
both at Bethel College, USA
The story of Christian thought is essential to understanding Christian faith today and the last two millennia of world history. This fresh and lively introduction explores the central ideas, persons, events and movement that gave rise to Christian thought.
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Including maps, a chronology and detailed suggestions for further reading, this is an ideal starting point for anyone studying the bible or simply wanting to know more about the best-selling book of all time.
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Written by an international team of distinguished scholars, this comprehensive book introduces the fundamental, historical, systematic, moral and ecclesiological aspects of the study of the Church.
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...think about it
www.routledge.com/religion 18 September 2010 | THE TABLET | 11 ,
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