Song
C. S. Lewis
Faeries must be in the woods Or the satyrs’ laughing broods— Tritons in the summer sea, Else how could the dead things be Half so lovely as they are? How could wealth of star on star Dusted o’er the frosty night Fill thy spirit with delight And lead thee from this care of thine Up among the dreams divine, Were it not that each and all Of them that walk the heavenly hall Is in truth a happy isle, Where eternal meadows smile, And golden globes of fruit are seen Twinkling through the orchards green; Were the Other People go On the bright sward to and fro? Atoms dead could never thus Stir the human heart of us Unless the beauty that we see The veil of endless beauty be, Filled full of spirits that have trod Far hence along the heavenly sod And see the bright footprints of God.
