It's finals week for the Winter quarter here at Fuller and people are stressed and sleep deprived and the campus cold is taking hold.
I'm not as busy as I have been previous quarters. I'm working on a paper for John Goldingay pointing out some parallels between the competing voices and perspectives in the old testament writings and in William Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience. In my re-reading of the songs I discovered this exquisite poem. I've always like Blake --something I can relate to in a guy who doesn't want to separate image from the writen word.
The Voice of the Ancient Bard
From Songs of Experience
Youth of delight! come hither
And see the opening morn,
Image of Truth new-born.
Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason,
Dark disputes and artful teazing.
Folly is an endless maze;
Tangled roots perplex her ways;
How many have fallen there!
They stumble all night
over bones of the dead;
And feel--they know not what but care;
And wish to lead others, when they should be led.
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