‘The Hermit of Moel yr Ancr’

 

The bright round Moon is bathing the open

Hilltop lea in quiet silver light.

In the surrounding woods a wolf is howling,

Sensing the presence of a living being.

At the crest of the bald hill, Gwyddfarch

Is weeping for his sins, for his kin,

For all mankind.  And now, this night, the Grace

Of the Holy Ghost descends, deifies,

Unites with him – flesh and bone and soul –

A man, throbbing with Divine Life.  It flows

Down the hill, through the air, through the grasses

And the leaves.  The wolf is silent now,

Only softly breathing beneath the still moon.

 . . .

The rest is at https://www.newenglishreview.org/articles/the-hermit-of-moel-yr-ancr/.

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Note:  ‘Moel yr Ancr’ is the Welsh rendering of ‘Bald Hill of the Anchorite.’

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Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the Souð, unworthy though we are!

Anathema to the Union!