Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy By the Rev. H. D. Rawnsley |
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AT THE MONUMENT OF ST. BENEDICT ABOVE EINSIEDELN |
 | Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy |  |
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AT THE MONUMENT OF ST. BENEDICT ABOVE EINSIEDELN
Here, Father Benedict, I too could stand
Through winter storm, through summer's quivering heat,
Clad all in white, the raven at my feet,
With books and cup and crozier in my hand,
And gaze upon the palace I had planned
For holy thought, the halls where pilgrims meet,
The brown-roofed school, the quadrangle complete
With church, byre, bakery, playground, garden-land;
Through winter storm, through summer's quivering heat,
Clad all in white, the raven at my feet,
With books and cup and crozier in my hand,
And gaze upon the palace I had planned
For holy thought, the halls where pilgrims meet,
The brown-roofed school, the quadrangle complete
With church, byre, bakery, playground, garden-land;
But then, like Pastor Zwinglius, I should turn,
And entering to the church, I would ascend
Its pulpit, crying, ‘Brother, leave your cell,
Burn no more tapers, ring no sanctus bell;
Our God hath made of dark-faced dolls an end,
And claims your heart, wherein His lamp shall burn.’
And entering to the church, I would ascend
Its pulpit, crying, ‘Brother, leave your cell,
Burn no more tapers, ring no sanctus bell;
Our God hath made of dark-faced dolls an end,
And claims your heart, wherein His lamp shall burn.’
| Sonnets in Switzerland and Italy | |