Macarius, the blessed athlete, speaks:
‘The days, you’ll find, will scurry now
Like little desert mice
Away from you.
Live no longer with the Greeks,
Whose time is all they have to show,
Whose marbles still entice
Men to a deathly hue.
Be patient in a land of leeks,
Learn how to market what you grow,
And throw in with the price
A smile or two.
So you will leave the love of books
For Love, who lets me let you know
He waits in a disguise
To welcome you.’
For He is there among the wrecks
Of life: the old and sick, the slow
Unlovely men, the prize
Their wrinkles mask His golden looks;
He smiles behind their sulky no
Response: in each His eyes
Are on you too.
So give Him love for love, who takes
Such pains to find you ways to go
To Him, and sacrifice
Will make you new.