children of light
By Robert Lowell Our fathers wrung their bread from stocks and stonesAnd fenced their gardens with the Redmen’s bones;Embarking from the Nether Land of Holland,Pilgrims unhouseled by Geneva’s night,They planted here the Serpent’s seeds of light;And here the pivoting searchlights probe to shockThe riotous glass houses built on rock,And candles gutter by an empty altar,And …