Monday, August 23, 2004

Spider-devils

With every morn my life afresh must break

The crust of self, gathered about me fresh;

That Thy wind-spirit may rush in and shake

The darkness out of me, and rend the mesh

The spider-devils spin out of flesh---

Eager to net the soul before it wake,

That it may slumberous lie, and listen to the snake.

(George MacDonald)

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