#school textbook

Inside this northern summer's fold

The fields are full of naked gold,

Broadcast from heaven on lands it loves;

The green veiled air is full of doves;

Soft leaves that sift the sunbeams let

Light on the small warm grasses wet

Fall in short broken kisses sweet,

And break again like waves that beat

Round the sun's feet.

But I, for all this English mirth

Of golden-shod and dancing days,

And the old green-girt sweet-hearted earth,

Desire what here no spells can raise.

Far hence, with holier heavens above,

The lovely city of my love

Bathes deep in the sun-satiate air

That flows round no fair thing more fair

Her beauty bare.

There the utter sky is holier, there

More pure the intense white height of air,

More clear men's eyes that mine would meet,

And the sweet springs of things more sweet.

There for this one warm note of doves

A clamour of a thousand loves

Storms the night's ear, the day's assails,

From the tempestuous nightingales,

And fills, and fails.

O gracious city well-beloved,

Italian, and a maiden crowned,

Siena, my feet are no more moved

Toward thy strange-shapen mountain-bound:

But my heart in me turns and moves,

O lady loveliest of my loves,

Toward thee, to lie before thy feet

And gaze from thy fair fountain-seat

Up the sheer street;

And the house midway hanging see

That saw Saint Catherine bodily,

Felt on its floors her sweet feet move,

And the live light of fiery love

Burn from her beautiful strange face,

As in the sanguine sacred place

Where in pure hands she took the head

Severed, and with pure lips still red

Kissed the lips dead.

For years through, sweetest of the saints,

In quiet without cease she wrought,

Till cries of men and fierce complaints

From outward moved her maiden thought;

And prayers she heard and sighs toward France,

"God, send us back deliverance,

Send back thy servant, lest we die!"

With an exceeding bitter cry

They smote the sky.

Then in her sacred saving hands

She took the sorrows of the lands,

With maiden palms she lifted up

The sick time's blood-embittered cup,

And in her virgin garment furled

The faint limbs of a wounded world.

Clothed with calm love and clear desire,

She went forth in her soul's attire,

A missive fire.

Across the might of men that strove

It shone, and over heads of kings;

And molten in red flames of love

Were swords and many monstrous things;

And shields were lowered, and snapt were spears,

And sweeter-tuned the clamorous years;

And faith came back, and peace, that were

Fled; for she bade, saying, "Thou, God's heir,

Hast thou no care?

"Lo, men lay waste thine heritage

Still, and much heathen people rage

Against thee, and devise vain things.

What comfort in the face of kings,

What counsel is there? Turn thine eyes

And thine heart from them in like wise;

Turn thee unto thine holy place

To help us that of God for grace

Require thy face.

"For who shall hear us if not thou

In a strange land? what doest thou there?

Thy sheep are spoiled, and the ploughers plough

Upon us; why hast thou no care

For all this, and beyond strange hills

Liest unregardful what snow chills

Thy foldless flock, or what rains beat?

Lo, in thine ears, before thy feet,

Thy lost sheep bleat.

"And strange men feed on faultless lives,

And there is blood, and men put knives,

Shepherd, unto the young lamb's throat;

And one hath eaten, and one smote,

And one had hunger and is fed

Full of the flesh of these, and red

With blood of these as who drinks wine

And God knoweth, who hath sent thee a sign,

If these were thine."

But the Pope's heart within him burned,

So that he rose up, seeing the sign,

And came among them; but she turned

Back to her daily way divine,

And fed her faith with silent things,

And lived her life with curbed white wings,

And mixed herself with heaven and died:

And now on the sheer city-side

Smiles like a bride.

You see her in the fresh clear gloom,

Where walls shut out the flame and bloom

Of full-breathed summer, and the roof

Keeps the keen ardent air aloof

And sweet weight of the violent sky:

There bodily beheld on high,

She seems as one hearing in tune

Heaven within heaven, at heaven's full noon,

In sacred swoon:

A solemn swoon of sense that aches

With imminent blind heat of heaven,

While all the wide-eyed spirit wakes,

Vigilant of the supreme Seven,

Whose choral flames in God's sight move,

Made unendurable with love,

That without wind or blast of breath

Compels all things through life and death

Whither God saith.

There on the dim side-chapel wall

Thy mighty touch memorial,

Razzi, raised up, for ages dead,

And fixed for us her heavenly head:

And, rent with plaited thorn and rod,

Bared the live likeness of her God

To men's eyes turning from strange lands,

New ‘Common Core’ Approved Textbook Will Indoctrinate 6th-GRADERS About ‘BLACK LIVES MATTER’!

To hear “Common Core” defenders you would think that it really isn’t that bad and critics are insane, but this new Common Core approved textbook that indoctrinates American children to be “Black Lives Matter” thugs and morons makes me think the critics have a point.

Watch Larry Elder obliterate the idiocy:

Gotta love the Elder!

Over…