<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476415" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Advent</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">We have tested and tasted too much, lover-<br>Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder.<br>But here in the Advent-darkened room<br>Where the dry black bread and the sugarless tea<br>Of penance will charm back the luxury<br>Of a child's soul, we'll return to Doom<br>The knowledge we stole but could not use.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the newness that was in every stale thing<br>When we looked at it as children: the spirit-shocking<br>Wonder in a black slanting Ulster hill<br>Or the prophetic astonishment in the tedious talking<br>Of an old fool will awake for us and bring<br>You and me to the yard gate to watch the whins<br>And the bog-holes, cart-tracks, old stables where Time begins.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O after Christmas we'll have no need to go searching<br>For the difference that sets an old phrase burning-<br>We'll hear it in the whispered argument of a churning<br>Or in the streets where the village boys are lurching.<br>And we'll hear it among decent men too<br>Who barrow dung in gardens under trees,<br>Wherever life pours ordinary plenty.<br>Won't we be rich, my love and I, and<br>God we shall not ask for reason's payment,<br>The why of heart-breaking strangeness in dreeping hedges<br>Nor analyse God's breath in common statement.<br>We have thrown into the dust-bin the clay-minted wages<br>Of pleasure, knowledge and the conscious hour-<br>And Christ comes with a January flower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Submitted by Andrew Mayers</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+Kavanagh">Patrick Kavanagh</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476415" data-title="Advent de Patrick Kavanagh" data-description="We have tested and tasted too much, lover- Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder. But here in the Advent-darkened room Where the dry black bread and the sugarless tea Of penance will charm back the luxury Of a child's soul, we'll retur..."></div> </div> </div>

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