Re: The poetry of Philip Britts

THE UNWORTHY SINGERS

I sent my soul searching the songs of the ages,
The hearts of all poets were bared to my eyes,
Though I read golden thoughts as I turned golden pages
The echoes fell faint as of songs that were sighs.

I weighed up the greatness of all who were greatest
Whom the world had called strong and the world had called wise,
But the song that they sang from the first to the latest
Fell back from the portals of Thy Paradise.

Philip Britts, 1934


Bruderhof Communities wrote:

> The longest drought shall pass;
> The heavens gather now.
> New life for tree and grass,
> Work for the plough.
>  
> On high in forest tops
> The eager bees do wing,
> See how the mighty trees
> Blossom and sing.
>  
> All life is joy again,
> The longest drought shall pass,
> Bringeth sweet drenching rain,
> Life for the grass.
>  
> Philip Britts, June 1945
>