On a starless night and
Underneath a sleeping
Comes the cry of sheep and
From the slaughter house to mine.
Fearful is the call and
Though I do not want to hear,
Though it has been said by
That the animal is dumb.
Gone the byre and gone the
And the gently moving
As with stabbing eye they
In a clear, electric sun.
Now, red-fingered to their
With the shot and with the blade,
Rubber-booted angels
Enter as the morning light.
But who wields that knife and
Does not strike the blow alone,
And there is no place to
Other than at his right hand.
God, who does not dwell on
In the wide, unwinking sky,
And whose quiet counsels
Simply from the human heart,
Teach us strong and teach us
What to say and what to do,
That we love as best we
All Thy creatures.
Even man. Amen
