Boethius – The Consolation of Philosophy

A bird which chattered noisily when free

Into a cage is taken from the tree

Though cups are set all sweet with honey there

And food in plenty with the sweetest care

Is ministered by men in their delight

It flutters in the cage and catches sight

Of where the pleasant woodland shade is cast

The food beneath its feet is scattered fast

Now for the wood alone she sadly longs

For the woods alone she sings her whispered songs

The Cell – Blithe spirit [1976]

Great open meadows and green matted grass

Silver flecked leaves, shimmering winds through them pass

Great knotted boughs twisting through to the ground

Warm wind which rustles in soft rhythmic sounds

Warm green and cool grass and bright white light sky

Purple for toadflax and gold ragwort high

White crawling bindweed and strong climbing Sun

Peacefulness echoing making All One

Warm stone and cold stone, soft stone and hard

Granite lies crushingly, limestone on sward

Mellowing yellowing blending in green

Lichen and moss blending soft in this scene

High up above a skylark swims still

Holding the air and gliding at will

Circling round in great sweeps in the sky

Below him a cricket chirps ceaselessly by

But I’m in my glasshouse, my strange cloistered cell

It’s conditioned and purified freed from all smell

Humidified, padded and made to work fine

Oh the longing, the longing to make this realm mine.