<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=507153" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Boy In Church</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gabble-gabble . . . brethren . . . gabble-gabble!'<br>My window glimpses larch 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 of 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 silenece 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>Prayer-chains for 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=507153" data-title="The Boy In Church de Robert Graves" data-description="'Gabble-gabble . . . brethren . . . gabble-gabble!' My window glimpses larch and heather. I hardly hear the tuneful babble, Not knowing nor much caring whether The text is praise or exhortation, Prayer of thanksgiving or damnation. Outside it b..."></div> </div> </div>

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