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Should eat into our love, Remember love is lent To us, and we must prove Not only that we're worth The haven of its home But that we can unearth The subtle, silent worm Which breeds about its base A hateful, piercing wit That undermines love's house If we abandon it. Accordingly if words Escape from us in rage Like wild, unsightly birds That have escaped their cage, And lure us from love's house In scurrying pursuit, Let's ask this question: Is Love's charity and truth Something that we can leave When we grow mad or bored And then reclaim when we've Grown bored with being bored? No—for within love's house It lives, and cannot quit, And it will stay with us If we will stay with it. Therefore, let us retrace Our steps along the way— For in the worthless chase We are the real prey— And let us find once more That sanctified abode Of ever-open door, The real house of God, Love's house, a house of peace, Which we may have and keep, Where gaiety's increase We may forever reap; Within that house alone, Secure from argument, We can begin to own The love that we are lent, And each day set apart Our special, daily goal: A holiday in the heart, And a sabbath in the soul. David Marcus
David Marcus died on the 9th May 2009, his memorial service was led by Rev.Bridget Spain (assistant Minister) at the Dublin church. |