'A SLEEP OF PRISONERS'
BY CHRISTOPHER FRY
 

The human heart can go the lengths of God...

Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now. The frozen misery
Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move;
The thunder is the thunder of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart Spring.

Thank God our time is now when wrong
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never to leave us till we take
The longest stride of soul men ever took.

Affairs are now soul size.

The enterprise
is exploration into God.

Where are you making for? It takes
So many thousand years to wake...

But will you wake, for pity's sake?