There’s A Magic In The Distance, Where

We Have Come By Curious Ways To The Light That Holds The Days; We Have Sought In Haunts Of Fear For That All-enfolding Sphere: And Lo! It Was Not Far, But Near. We Have Found, O Foolish-fond, The Shore That Has No Shore Beyond. Deep In Every Heart It Lies With Its Untranscended Skies; For What Heaven Should Bend Above Hearts That Own The Heaven Of Love?

Bring The Buds Of The Hazel-copse, Where Two Lovers Kissed At Noon; Bring The Crushed Red Wild-thyme Tops Where They Murmured Under The Moon.

Only In Souls The Christ Is Brought To Birth, And There He Lives And Dies.

Your God Still Walks In Eden, Between The Ancient Trees, Where Youth And Love Go Wading Through Pools Of Primroses. And This Is The Sign We Bring You, Before The Darkness Fall, That Spring Is Risen, Is Risen Again, That Life Is Risen, Is Risen Again, That Love Is Risen, Is Risen Again, And Love Is Lord Of All.

Luke Associates John With Peter In Acts, When, After The Resurrection, That Strange Boldness Had Come Upon The Disciples.