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THE ORATORY
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


122

THE ORATORY

In the high-vaulted temple of my heart
There is an oratory thine alone—
A sweet, hushed, sacred chantry all thine own.
There do I fly when I would be apart
To dream dear dreams, for there I know thou art,
Albeit I see thee not. There is thy throne;
There thou art crowned, and as at altar-stone
Fain would I kneel and let the day depart!
While this remains I cannot lose thee, dear,
Though countless centuries between us roll,
Though earth dissolves, and planets disappear,
And all the splendor of the starry scroll
Dies out of heaven, what room is there for fear?
Love still shall answer love, soul call to soul!