Bickersteth’s “L’infinito”

The Infinite by Geoffrey L. Bickersteth, 1923

Always dear to me was this lonely hill,

Ay, and this hedge that from so broad a sweep

Of the ultimate horizon screens the view.

But, as I sit and gaze, my fancy feigns

Space beyond space upon the further side,

And silence within silence past all thought,

Immeasurable calm; whereat well nigh

Groweth the heart afraid.  And as I hear

The wind sough thro’ these thickets, then between

That everlasting silence and this voice

I make comparison; and call to mind

The Eternal, and the ages dead, and this

The living present, and its clamour.  So

In this immensity my thought is drowned:

And sweet to me is shipwreck in this sea.

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