We are here in a wood of little beeches: And the leaves are like black lace Against a sky of nacre. One bough of clear promise Across the moon. It is in this wise that God speaketh unto me. He layeth hands of healing upon my flesh, Stilling it in an eternal peace, Until my soul reaches out myriad and infinite hands Toward him, And is eased of its hunger. And I know that this passes: This implacable fury and torment of men, As a thing insensate and vain: And the stillness hath said unto me, Over the tumult of sounds and shaken flame, Out of the terrible beauty of wrath, I alone am eternal. One bough of clear promise Across the moon . Frederic Manning
About This Quote

In this poem, the speaker is in a place of great peace. She is at a place where she feels a great sense of comfort. There is one bough of clear promise across the moon. The speaker knows that this peace will only last for a short time before she is forced to return to the world of chaos and tumult. Knowing that she will have to face her enemies, she wishes that it would be in a place of peace where there was no turmoil, no fury, and no battle between good and evil.

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More Quotes By Frederic Manning
  1. We are here in a wood of little beeches: And the leaves are like black lace Against a sky of nacre. One bough of clear promise Across the moon. It is in this wise that God speaketh unto me. He layeth hands of healing upon...
  2. Yea, she hath passed hereby, and blessed the sheaves, And the great garths, and stacks, and quiet farms, And all the tawny, and the crimson leaves. Yea, she hath passed with poppies in her arms, Under the star of dusk, through stealing mist, And blessed...
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