“Whoever it was who searched the heavens with a telescope and found no God
would not have found the human mind if he had searched the brain with a microscope.”
— George Santayana (1863 – 1952)
Monthly Archives: October 2022
Prayers of St. Basil — Night Seasons
A PRAYER FOR THE NIGHT SEASONS
Lord, O Lord, who hast delivered us from every arrow that flieth by day, deliver us also from everything that walketh in darkness. Receive the lifting up of our hands as an evening sacrifice. Make us worthy to pass without blame through the course of the night, untempted by evil. And deliver us from all anxiety and cowardice that come to us from the devil. Grant compunction to our souls, and make our thoughts mindful of the trial at thy dread and righteous Judgment.
Nail down our flesh with the fear of thee, and mortify our earthly members, that in the stillness of sleep we may be enlightened by the vision of thy judgments. Take from us every unseemly fantasy and pernicious carnal desire. Raise us up at the hour of prayer, established in faith and advancing in thy commandments: through the grace and goodness of thine Only-begotten Son, with whom thou art blessed, together with thine all-holy, good, and life-giving Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.
-St. Basil the Great
This is the last of the three sample prayers of St Basil that I’d planned to share,
from the book Orthodox Christian Prayers. Previous: First Hour and Sixth Hour.
The robe of folden sunshine.
Today was the last day of real warmth;
I was luxuriating in it.
Every year it seems harder to see summer finally go,
in the “Indian Summer” fashion. I was waiting to see
if we might have a warm spell this month,
and here it is. So, here also is the poem I had laid by,
for farewell…
INDIAN SUMMER
I have strayed from silent places,
Where the days are dreaming always;
And fair summer lies a-dying,
Roses withered on her breast.
I have stolen all her beauty,
All her softness, all her sweetness;
In her robe of folden sunshine
I am drest.
I will breathe a mist about me
Lest you see my face too clearly,
Lest you follow me too boldly
I will silence every song.
Through the haze and through the silence
You will know that I am passing;
When you break the spell that holds you,
I am gone!
-Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
By the north wind was I torn.
IMITATION
Wandering from the parent bough,
Little, trembling leaf,
Whither goest thou?
‘From the beech, where I was born,
By the north wind was I torn.
Him I follow in his flight,
Over mountain, over vale,
From the forest to the plain,
Up the hill, and down again.
With him ever on the way:
More than that, I cannot say.
Where I go, must all things go,
Gentle, simple, high and low:
Leaves of laurel, leaves of rose;
Whither, heaven only knows!’
-Count Giacomo Leopardi, (1798 – 1837) Italy
Gladsome Lights 