A fragile gleam of hope and seeded light
Lay sleeping; in the gloom,
Such tender glow as this
Could clear be seen.

For the edges of the world were caught in Night,
And cloud filled up the room
Of heaven’s black abyss
And all between.

The lap that held the curl-embroidered brow,
The hand that rested there,
Belonged to Love and Love
Kept fealty.

That Love holds fast against the Dark e’en now,
To guard what yet is fair,
With all the hopes thereof
In certainty.


C. Baillie / '03

Christianity and Middle Earth