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ReadingWillow structured literacy program for Australian students
Poetry Library

— Stephen Crane

I stood upon a high place,

And saw, below, many devils

Running, leaping,

And carousing in sin.

…

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adjective

Engaged in or ready for action; characterized by energetic work, thought, or speech.

“The students were very active in class discussions, asking many thoughtful questions.”

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XI. AURAS OF DELIGHT.

53 lines
Coventry Patmore·1823–1896
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eautiful habitations, auras of delight!Who shall bewail the crags and bitter foamAnd angry sword-blades flashing left and rightWhich guard your glittering height,That none thereby may come!The vision which we haveRevere we so,That yet we craveTo foot those fields of ne'er-profaned snow?I, with heart-quake,Dreaming or thinking of that realm of Love,See, oft, a doveTangled in frightful nuptials with a snake;The tortured knot,Now, like a kite scant-weighted, flung bewitch'dSunwards, now pitch'd,Tail over head, down, but with no taste gotEternallyOf rest in either ruin or the sky,But bird and vermin each incessant strives,With vain dilaceration of both lives,'Gainst its abhorred bond insoluble,Coveting fiercer any separate hellThan the most weary Soul in PurgatoryOn God's sweet breast to lie.And, in this sign, I conThe guerdon of that golden Cup, fulfill'dWith fornications foul of Babylon,The heart where good is well-perceiv'd and known,Yet is not will'd;And Him I thank, who can make live again,The dust, but not the joy we once profane,That I, of ye,Beautiful habitations, auras of delight,In childish years and since had sometime sense and sight,But that ye vanish'd quite,Even from memory,Ere I could get my breath, and whisper 'See!'But did for meThey altogether die,Those trackless glories glimps'd in upper sky?Were they of chance, or vain,Nor good at all againFor curb of heart or fret?Nay, though, by grace,Lest, haply, I refuse God to His face,Their likeness wholly I forget,Ah, yet,Often in straits which else for me were ill,I mind me stillI did respire the lonely auras sweet,I did the blest abodes behold, and, at the mountains' feet,Bathed in the holy Stream by Hermon's thymy hill.
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