The Physic Light

The Physic Light

 

A Veneration of the Spirit

 

Burn like a torch, brave candlelight;

We have that bone to pick with Night[1]

 

Do not unto but shadows yield

What you aflame to me revealed

Rise high into the air and breathe,

And do not seek our side to leave,

But rage against the cares that come

With chills, uncouth and feelings none

 

Gleam like the truth in victory,

And grace those pages yet to be,

With every physic we can make

 

That heals the mind

And kills the snake

 

Burn like a torch, brave candlelight;

We have that bone to pick with Night!

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[1] The poet was highly critical of post-modern forays into the world of Western mysticism. He could not rightly conceive of an infinite number of interpretations working to man’s benefit regarding good and evil.  According to him, the business light has with darkness is the eradication of what is malignant, not merely the exposition of what is neutral and without objective meaning. To Paris, there could be no “happy balance.”