<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507064" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Boy in Church</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Gabble-gabble,… brethren,… gabble-gabble!” <br>My window frames forest and heather. <br>I hardly hear the tuneful babble, <br>Not knowing nor much caring whether <br>The text is praise or exhortation,<br>Prayer or thanksgiving, or damnation. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Outside it blows wetter and wetter, <br>The tossing trees never stay still. <br>I shift my elbows to catch better <br>The full round sweep of heathered hill.<br>The tortured copse bends to and fro <br>In silence like a shadow-show. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The parson’s voice runs like a river <br>Over smooth rocks. I like this church: <br>The pews are staid, they never shiver,<br>They never bend or sway or lurch. <br>“Prayer,” says the kind voice, “is a chain <br>That draws down Grace from Heaven again.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I add the hymns up, over and over, <br>Until there’s not the least mistake.<br>Seven-seventy-one. (Look! there’s a plover! <br>It’s gone!) Who’s that Saint by the lake? <br>The red light from his mantle passes <br>Across the broad memorial brasses. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s pleasant here for dreams and thinking,<br>Lolling and letting reason nod, <br>With ugly serious people linking <br>Sad prayers to a forgiving God…. <br>But a dumb blast sets the trees swaying <br>With furious zeal like madmen praying.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Graves">Robert Graves</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=507064" data-title="A Boy in Church de Robert Graves" data-description="“Gabble-gabble,… brethren,… gabble-gabble!” My window frames forest and heather. I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whether The text is praise or exhortation, Prayer or thanksgiving, or damnation. Outside i..."></div> </div> </div>

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