… sliced off the Black Mountains, solitary sentinel, rocky berg anchored at the edge of the rolling, green waves of the cultivated plain. Tough pull...
Trust, blind faith in men of might, certainty that they’ll do right: but feet of clay – enticed away, leave a litter of backers bitter. Faith in God need not be blind …
I’m not forgetting that task I said I’d do – I’ve left it ’til another day, and not remembering the worries old and new – I’ve left them ’til another day …