Of Time and the City Page #4

but when combined with

the British genius for creating the dismal,

makes for a cityscape

which is anything but Elysian.

(# Brahms:
Lullaby,

sung by Jennifer John)

Out to sea, the dawn wind

wrinkles and slides.

I am here, or elsewhere.

In my end is my beginning.

"We meet our destiny on the road

we take to avoid it.' [Carl Jung]

I said to my soul, be still

and let the dark come upon you

which shall be the darkness of God.

I said to my soul, be still

and wait without hope,

for hope would be hope

for the wrong thing.

Wait without love, for love

would be love of the wrong thing.

There is yet faith.

But the faith, the love and the hope

are all in the waiting -

the rest is not our business -

at the still point of the turning world,

suspended in time

between pole and tropic.

And all is always now.

Home is where one starts from.

As we grow older,

the world becomes stranger,

the pattern more complicated

of dead and living.

There is a time for the evening

under starlight;

a time for the evening under lamplight;

the evening with the photograph album.

Love is most nearly itself

when here and now cease to matter.

I said to my soul, be still

and accept this, my chanson d'amour

for all that has passed.

But where, oh, where are you

the Liverpool I knew and loved?

Where have you gone without me?

And now I'm an alien in my own land.

"O Tempora o mores.'

Oh, the times, oh, the fashions.

Tread gently, stranger

as you softly turn the key

To unlock time and cause the years

to fall towards their end

Speak low, Love, but speak wisely

For frail time hangs by a thread

above the world

With only hope to keep us safe

Tap lightly at the door,

then close it with a silent shock

But never, ever yield to the night

(# Faure:
Dolly Suite)

(# Piano plays nursery song)

We shall return with hope

to the good earth.

And you, my dear children,

you are the earth.

But, I reason earth is short

And anguish absolute

And many hurt

But what of that?

I reason, we could die:

The best vitality cannot excel decay

But what of that?

I reason that in heaven,

somehow it will be even

Some new equation given

But what of that?

(# Horn note sings out)

(Bells chime)

We shall not cease from exploration.

And the end of all our exploring

will be to arrive where we started

and to know the place for the first time.

Through the unknown remembered gate,

when the last of earth left to discover

is that which was the beginning.

A condition of complete simplicity

costing not less than everything.

And all shall be well

And all manner of thing

shall be well.

If all the world and Love were young

And truth in every shepherd's tongue

These pretty pleasures might me move

To live with thee, and be thy love

But time drives flocks from field to fold

When rivers rage and rocks grow cold

And Philomel becometh dumb

The rest complains of cares to come

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields

to wayward winter reckoning yields

A honey tongue, a heart of gall

Is Fancy's spring but Sorrow's fall

Thy gowns, thy shoes,

thy beds of roses

Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies

Soon break, soon wither,

soon forgotten

In folly ripe, in reason rotten

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds

Thy coral clasps and amber studs

All those in me no means can move

To come to thee and be thy love

But could youth last and love still breed

Had joys no date nor age no need

Then those delights

my mind might move

To live with thee and be thy love

We are being gathered in...

...at gloaming.

Is it sleep?

Or is it death?

(Mahler:
Resurrection,

triumphant chorus sings)

Goodnight, ladies.

Goodnight, sweet ladies.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

(# Liszt:

Consolation No.3 In D Flat Major)

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