From 'Twilight',  by Raglan Somerset,  1948

"Far far off things,"
Of one who wrought in clay but dreamt in fire
"Far far off things!"
The little manse in Wentwood and the wings
Of his desire,
The bright and shining Bowmen of his thought
Who came to help us when our strength was naught
And all seemed lost, but they
Old ghosts looked in upon the fray
And as new allies turned the day
To triumph, these are
"far off things".
The voice that sang beneath the Wentwood hills
Is silent and the strong tide fills
The valley with its silence, but there rings
An echo still of Machen's
"Far Off Things".

The above poem was sent by Lord Ragan's sister to Arthur Machen's daughter in 1963 and was given by her to 'Arculus'.

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