The call-out from our comfort

12 Apr 2022 | Mission | 0 comments

From our low seat beside the fire,

Where we have dozed and dreamed

And watched the glow

Or raked the ashes, stopping so

We scarcely saw the sun and rain above

Or looked higher

Than this same quiet red or burned out fire

Tonight we heard a call.


And so we cannot sit here any more.

We must arise and go:

The world is cold without

And dark and hedged about

With mystery and enmity and doubt.

But we must go

Though we do not know

Who called, or

What marks we shall leave upon the snow.


Charlotte Mew (1869-1928), The Call.


Notes from the Compiler


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