invigorating fount, fans vivus, ignis, charitas; grasp we again the one sword that will never be beaten into ploughshares, the Sword of the Spirit!
Then, seeing the Church of the living God as she will be, men will find a better warfare at hand; and young men will then come out undoubting and undivided, to join the fight against that ancient triple alliance, the World, the Flesh, and the Devil.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their head in a foreign land,
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise;
But our homes are under miraculous skies,
Where the yule tale was begun.
This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings,
And our peace is put in impossible things,
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.'[1]
