Hilltop: A Literary Paper. Volume 1 Number 1
That efficient man Swedenborg
Was everlastingly preoccupied
With saying there was only one
God, not three. The thought
Of more than one filled him with rage.
I remember a day in Wales
When the whole atmosphere was filled
With god-like forces, stirring the flat
Of the stagnant lake, stirring the dust,
The ancient willow-bole, and a leaf
From its ancient, waving branches.
And when I left the high-placed ruins,
The high-placed home of gods, a wind
Arose in the black sky and followed
Me down; and blew for a moment high
And uncertain over the house, before
It died and vanished utterly, ?—the wind
That follows you home, the ghost wind.