A year after Lewis' death, Owen Barfield
memorialised his friend in the following:
You came to him: when will you come to me?
He knows what matters from what matters not.
I hurry to and fro and seem to be.
New tasks, new faces . . . (tiny sir, so hot?
As though there were a future for success?
He knows what matters from what matters not).
I catch sight of your unaverted face
Between two eager places . . . thus the day
Is punctuated by the silences
With which you answer every time I say:--
You came to him; when will you come to me?
O time! O night! O sun's recurring ray!
I shall forget again, as I'd forgot,
Before I crossed the Campus yesterday:--
He knows what matters now, what matters not.
A place for an occasional examination of the work of the Inklings... and to marvel at, in Charles Williams' words, "... the staff work of the Omnipotence".
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2 comments:
My public is select and small
But crammed with taste and knowledge,
It's rather stout and fairly tall
And lives at Magdalen College.
Barfield on the range of readership of his poetry!
Hi Roger-
I'm currently working on completing my collection of Lewis's works via eBay. Are there any titles by Barfield that you particularly recommend I keep an eye out for?
(And I see you've been reading C.S. Lewis at the Breakfast Table. Me too--great book!)
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