No work of men's hands but the weary years
Besiege and take it, comes its evil day.
The written word alone flouts destiny,
Revives the past and gives the lie to Death.
God's finger made its furrows in the rock
In letters, when He gave His folk the law.
And things that are, and have been, and may be,
Their secret with the written word abides.
Monday, February 24, 2014
The written word alone flouts destiny
From Mediaeval Latin Lyrics by Helen Waddell, section 107