Mary Stewart Quote
Rest you here, enchanter, while the light fades,Vision narrows, and the farSky-edge is gone with the sun.Be content with the small sparkOf the coal, the smellOf food, and the breathOf frost beyond the shut door. Home is here, and familiar things;A cup, a wooden bowl, a blanket,Prayer, a gift for the god, and sleep.(And music, says the harp, And music.)Rest here, enchanter, while the fire dies.In a breath, in an eyelid's fall,You will see them, the dreams;The sword and the young king,The white horse and the running water,The lit lamp and the boy smiling.Dreams, dreams, enchanter! Gone with the harp's echo when the stringsFall mute; with the flame's shadow when the fireDies.Be still, and listen.Far on the black air Blows the great wind, risesThe running tide, flows the clear river.Listen, enchanter, hear
Rest you here, enchanter, while the light fades,Vision narrows, and the farSky-edge is gone with the sun.Be content with the small sparkOf the coal, the smellOf food, and the breathOf frost beyond the shut door. Home is here, and familiar things;A cup, a wooden bowl, a blanket,Prayer, a gift for the god, and sleep.(And music, says the harp, And music.)Rest here, enchanter, while the fire dies.In a breath, in an eyelid's fall,You will see them, the dreams;The sword and the young king,The white horse and the running water,The lit lamp and the boy smiling.Dreams, dreams, enchanter! Gone with the harp's echo when the stringsFall mute; with the flame's shadow when the fireDies.Be still, and listen.Far on the black air Blows the great wind, risesThe running tide, flows the clear river.Listen, enchanter, hear