Re: The poetry of Philip Britts

Quicken the seed
In the dark, damp earth.
Nourish our need,
God of all birth.
 
Thou art the seed
That we bury now.
Thou art our need,
God of the plough.
 
Bury the spark
Of our own desire
Deep in the dark,
God of the fire.
 
After the night
When the fight is won,
Thou art the light,
God of the sun.

This was found among Philip's papers a few weeks before little Philip was 
born, May 13, 1949.


Mary wrote:

> Here in the country's heart,
> Where the air is clean,
> Life is the same sweet life,
> As it e'er hath been.
> 
> God comes down in the rain,
> And the crops grow tall.
> This is the country's faith,
> And the best of all.
>  
> Precedes an undated series of essays entitled "The Same Sweet Life."
> 
> Philip Britts
>