Verse > Anthologies > The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse > 211. In Summer Fields
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Nicholson & Lee, eds.  The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917.
  
211. In Summer Fields
By Christina Catherine Fraser-Tytler (Mrs. Edward Liddell)  (b. 1848)
  
SOMETIMES, as in the summer fields
I walk abroad, there comes to me
So strange a sense of mystery,
My heart stands still, my feet must stay,
I am in such strange company.        5
 
I look on high—the vasty deep
Of blue outreaches all my mind;
And yet I think beyond to find
Something more vast—and at my feet
The little bryony is twined.       10
 
Clouds sailing as to God go by,
Earth, sun, and stars are rushing on;
And faster than swift time, more strong
Than rushing of the worlds, I feel
A something Is, of name unknown.       15
 
And turning suddenly away,
Grown sick and dizzy with the sense
Of power, and mine own impotence,
I see the gentle cattle feed
In dumb unthinking innocence.       20
 
The great Unknown above; below,
The cawing rooks, the milking-shed;
God’s awful silence overhead;
Below, the muddy pool, the path
The thirsty herds of cattle tread.       25
 
Sometimes, as in the summer fields
I walk abroad, there comes to me
So wild a sense of mystery,
My senses reel, my reason fails,
I am in such strange company.       30
 
Yet somewhere, dimly, I can feel
The wild confusion dwells in me,
And I, in no strange company,
Am the lost link ’twixt Him and these,
And touch Him through the mystery.       35

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