large/5754/balladstbarbara_1104_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladstbarbara_17_chesterton_64kb_0
large/5754/balladstbarbara_1104_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladstbarbara_17_chesterton_64kb
English
5754
Men grow too old for love, my love, Men grow too old for wine, But I shall not grow too old to see Unearthly daylight shine, Changing my chamber's dust to snow Till I doubt if it be mine. Behold, the crowning mercies melt, The first surprises stay; And in my dross is dropped a gift For which I dare not pray: That a man grow used to grief and joy But not to night and day. MEN GROW TOO OLD FOR LOVE MY LOVE MEN GROW TOO OLD FOR WINE BUT I SHALL NOT GROW TOO OLD TO SEE UNEARTHLY DAYLIGHT SHINE CHANGING MY CHAMBERS DUST TO SNOW TILL I DOUBT IF IT BE MINE BEHOLD THE CROWNING MERCIES MELT THE FIRST SURPRISE IS STAY AND IN MY DROSS IS DROPPED A GIFT FOR WHICH I DARE NOT PRAY THAT A MAN GROW USED TO GRIEF AND JOY BUT NOT TO NIGHT AND DAY
ittle more: And ever was that terraced wilderness And falling plain paved like a palace floor. Rust red as gore crawled on their arms of might And on their faces wrinkles and not scars: Till the dream suddenly ended; noise and light Loosened the tyranny of the tropic stars. But over them like a subterranean sun I saw the sign of all the fiends that fell; And a wild voice cried “Hasten and be done, Is there no steepness in the stairs of hell?” He that returns, He that remains the same, Turned the round real world, His iron vice; Down the grey garden paths a bird called twice, And through three doors mysterious daylight came. A SECOND CHILDHOOD When all my days are ending And I have no song to sing, I think I shall not be too old To stare at everything; As I stared once at a nursery door Or a tall tree and a swing. Wherein God’s ponderous mercy hangs On all my sins and me, Because He does not take away The terror from the tree And stones still shine along the road That are and cannot be.  SECTION SEVENTEEN OF THE BALLAD OF SAINT BARBARA AND OTHER VERSES BY G CHESTERTOWN READ FOR LIBERVOX DOT ORG BY GAELLE CATO A SECOND CHILDHOOD WHEN ALL MY DAYS ARE ENDING AND I HAVE NO SONG TO SING I THINK I SHALL NOT BE TOO OLD TO STARE AT EVERYTHING AS I ONCE STARED AT A NURSERY DOOR OR A TALL TREE AND A SWING WHEREIN GOD'S PONDEROUS MERCY HANGS ON ALL MY SINS AND ME BECAUSE HE DOES NOT TAKE AWAY THE TERROR FROM THE TREE AND STONES STILL SHINE ALONG THE ROAD THAT ARE AND CANNOT BE
large/5754/balladstbarbara_1104_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladstbarbara_17_chesterton_64kb
file
download/librilight/large/5754/balladstbarbara_1104_librivox_64kb_mp3/balladstbarbara_17_chesterton_64kb.flac