by Leo Aylen
Married only four years, priest only three,
In gentle happiness at Bemerton,
Till in the blood-coughing clutch of TB,
Kissed by beloved Jane, his work was done.
What has he left us? Howls of sexual passion
From the mere three days taken to win his wife?
No. Flailing struggles, then final submission
To the overwhelming gentleness of God.
‘Love bade him welcome’, and he passed love on,
Telling, first his parishioners, then us,
How Christians ought to be like window glass
Letting God’s light through. For him, how it shone -
For him and Jane — showing their love was good.