Records and Other Poems By the late Robert Leighton |
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OUR CHAPEL. |
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 | Records and Other Poems |  |
184
OUR CHAPEL.
Not in all England's temple-built domain
Can I behold such beauty as I may
Within the blue-ceil'd, marble-pillar'd fane,
That draws my Sabbath day.
Can I behold such beauty as I may
Within the blue-ceil'd, marble-pillar'd fane,
That draws my Sabbath day.
I almost get all that my soul can need
Of worship, merely there to sit and look;
For Beauty is my idol, half my creed—
God's universal book.
Of worship, merely there to sit and look;
For Beauty is my idol, half my creed—
God's universal book.
So, in its beauty has our chapel grown
From Thee, O God! a very poem inspired;
And, drinking in its every line and tone,
My heart is never tired.
From Thee, O God! a very poem inspired;
And, drinking in its every line and tone,
My heart is never tired.
Up in the azure heaven of its roof
I lose my thoughts, as in God's outer skies:
The checker'd panes shed down the golden woof,
Like beams from angel-eyes.
I lose my thoughts, as in God's outer skies:
The checker'd panes shed down the golden woof,
Like beams from angel-eyes.
The sun throws in the window's pictured scenes,
And Jesus moves in light from seat to seat;
The Marys come, and Christ's own Galileans
Pass by with silent feet.
And Jesus moves in light from seat to seat;
The Marys come, and Christ's own Galileans
Pass by with silent feet.
185
But when the organ stirs the enraptured air,
And touches chords our wisdom may not reach,
Ah, then we have the sermon and the pray'r,
Though none were there to preach!
And touches chords our wisdom may not reach,
Ah, then we have the sermon and the pray'r,
Though none were there to preach!
I love our chapel for its beauty's sake,
And for a promise on its altar laid—
A promise that I did not need to make,
And have not wish'd unmade.
And for a promise on its altar laid—
A promise that I did not need to make,
And have not wish'd unmade.
I love it for that mighty soul who shone—
And shines—the brightest of our gospel's lamps;
And that great heart who pass'd from us, half known,
To watch the embattled camps.
And shines—the brightest of our gospel's lamps;
And that great heart who pass'd from us, half known,
To watch the embattled camps.
I love it for the coming hope, though dim.
The old renown still hangs about these walls;
And, 'tis my faith, whoever comes, on him
Elijah's mantle falls.
The old renown still hangs about these walls;
And, 'tis my faith, whoever comes, on him
Elijah's mantle falls.
| Records and Other Poems | |