We need no barbarous words nor solemn spell <br />To raise the unknown. It lies before our feet; <br />There have been men who sank down into Hell <br /> In some suburban street, <br /> <br />And some there are that in their daily walks <br />Have met archangels fresh from sight of God, <br />Or watched how in their beans and cabbage-stalks <br /> Long files of faerie trod. <br /> <br />Often me too the Living voices call <br />In many a vulgar and habitual place, <br />I catch a sight of lands beyond the wall, <br /> I see a strange god’s face. <br /> <br />And some day this work will work upon me so <br />I shall arise and leave both friends and home <br />And over many lands a pilgrim go <br /> Through alien woods and foam, <br /> <br />Seeking the last steep edges of the earth <br />Whence I may leap into that gulf of light <br />Wherein, before my narrowing Self had birth, <br /> Part of me lived aright.<br /><br />Clive Staples Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-daily-bread-5/
