Since I decided to accept this
quiet corner of the garden
as my undeserved Elysium
and to make the birdsong and the flowers
stand for the rightness of everything,
I find I have no need to show
how many pieces the world is in,
how better and worse it always is;
where motivated reason and
unreason lead and where the next
fall and salvation’s coming from.
No remorse, the last hurrah
of influence, survives this light,
constant and evenly-spread, from lawn
and bush, towards the open fields.
Got something to add? Join the discussion and comment below.
Already a subscriber? Log in
Get 10 issues
for $20
Subscribe to The Spectator Australia today for the next 10 magazine issues, plus full online access, for just $20.
- Delivery of the weekly magazine
- Unlimited access to spectator.com.au and app
- Spectator podcasts and newsletters
- Full access to spectator.co.uk
Unlock this article
You might disagree with half of it, but you’ll enjoy reading all of it. Try your first month for free, then just $2 a week for the remainder of your first year.
Comments
Don't miss out
Join the conversation with other Spectator Australia readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.
SUBSCRIBEAlready a subscriber? Log in