 | The Finding of The Book and Other Poems |  |
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Beside the dead man two veil'd women sit
Beside the dead man two veil'd women sit;
All the night long over the catafalque
Twelve tapers burn; from many a precious stalk
Lilies as white as sunshine ever lit
Their fine funereal fragrancy emit.
‘Trifles!’
Yet outside do the heedless walk,
Outside the Elysée the godless talk,
Outside the Elysée is prayerless wit.
Within, the quiet demonstration lies
That the one strength which makes the struggler true
Is in the silent sweetness of belief,
Is in the triple immortalities
Call'd God, creed, prayer. Thus we console our grief,
And half the heav'n of France grows almost blue.
| The Finding of The Book and Other Poems | |