THE TEMPLE IN DARKNESS

by: Dinah Maria (Mulock) Craik (1826-1887)

      ARKNESS broods upon the temple,
      Glooms along the lonely aisles,
      Fills up all the orient window,
      Whence, like little children’s wiles,
      Shadows--purple, azure, golden--
      Broke upon the floor in smiles.
       
      From the great heart of the organ
      Bursts no voice of chant or psalm;
      All the air, by music-pulses
      Stirred no more, is deathly calm;
      And no precious incense rising,
      Falls, like good men’s prayer, in balm.
       
      Not a sound of living footstep
      Echoes on the marble floor;
      Not a sigh of stranger passing
      Pierces through the closèd door;
      Quenched the light upon the altar:
      Where the priest stood, none stands more.
       
      Lord, why hast Thou left Thy temple
      Scorned of man, disowned by Thee!
      Rather let Thy right hand crush it,
      None its desolation see!
      List--‘He who the temple builded
      Doth His will there. Let it be!’

"The Temple in Darkness" is reprinted from The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. Ed. Nicholson & Lee. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1917.

MORE POEMS BY DINAH MARIA CRAIK

RELATED LINKS

BROWSE THE POETRY ARCHIVE:

[ A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z ]

Home · Poetry Store · Links · Email · © 2003 Poetry-Archive.com