Explore "Holy Spring" by Dylan Thomas on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
O / Out of a bed of love / When that immortal hospital made one more move to soothe / The cureless counted body,
And ruin and his causes / Over the barbed and shooting sea assumed an army / And swept into our wounds and houses, / I climb to greet the war in which I have no heart but only / That one dark I owe my light,
Call for confessor and wiser mirror but there is none / To glow after the god stoning night / And I am struck as lonely as a holy maker by the sun.
No / Praise that the spring time is all
Gabriel and radiant shrubbery as the morning grows joyful / Out of the woebegone pyre / And the multitude's sultry tear turns cool on the weeping wall, / My arising prodigal / Sun the father his quiver full of the infants of pure fire,
But blessed be hail and upheaval / That uncalm still it is sure alone to stand and sing / Alone in the husk of man's home / And the mother and toppling house of the holy spring, / If only for a last time