‘Coming from Evening Church’
The heaven-reflecting, usual moon
Scarred by thin branched, flows between
The simple sky, its light half-gone,
The evening hills of risen green.
Safely below the mountain crest
A little clench of sheep holds fast.
The lean spire hovers like a mast
Over its hulk of leaves and moss
And those who, locked within a dream,
Make between church and cot their way
Beside the secret-springing stream
That turns towards an unknown sea;
and there is neither night nor day,
Sorrow nor pain, eternally.
Charles Causley was born in Launceston, Cornwall. In 1967 he was awarded the Queen’s Gold Medal for Poetry: he is also a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. In 1986vhe was appointed CBE. His updated Collected Poems was published by Macmillan in 1992.