The Middle Door.
Obedience.
I
If thou art one whose cry is Liberty,
Pass not the portal of our hallow'd shrine,
We in a holier freedom would be free.
If thou in wealth or honour lov'st to shine,
To build in cedars, or at ease recline,
No holy awe thy tongue and foot shall hold
In those lov'd haunts, where ancient Discipline
Keeps watch, amid her treasures manifold,
And welcomes to stern walls and dim cathedrals old.
II
At her command the Apostolic key
Opens the solemn doors, in speaking stone
Her glories far withdraw, where none can see,
Seeking the Infinite in secret known,
And tell of wonders which surround his throne;
Her carv'd embroideries, which retire aloof,
Are ancient virtues, seen by God alone,
And his good Angels, mysteries learn'd by proof,
And prayers which hide from man o'er Heav'n's embowering roof.
III
Ye cloistral shades, and angel-haunted cells,
Chantries, and tuneful roofs, and altars old,
Where incommunicable Godhead dwells!
Let your dread spirit fill me, my hand hold,
And every thought to your obedience mould!
While through the avenue of number'd years,
As through a pillar'd vista, I behold
Where Christ for me the bleeding burden bears,
Till all my heart be love, and soul-constraining fears;
IV
And I learn your deep lesson, up that road
To Calvary's awful mount Thy Cross to bear,
After Thee and with Thee, and share thy load;—
Divine prerogative! if so brought near,
And made in that similitude more dear,
We share too thine Anointing; heart and knee
Shall so gain firmness, till in holier fear,
Clinging beneath the foot of that dread tree,
We hide ourselves, and look, dear Lord, to Thee,
V
Calm on the Rock of Ages. While below,
For ever restless, and for ever loud,
Toss the tumultuous seas of human woe,
Death and decay, like shadows of a cloud,
Pass o'er each scene, and if we be allow'd
To linger on, like waves which break on waves,
All that we loved to dim destruction crowd;
Day and Night swifter seek their silent caves,
And we are left alone, standing above our graves,
VI
Which are the mouths of that unfathom'd sea,
Whose awful secrets Thou alone canst tell!
Then where flee we for refuge, but to Thee,
And Thine obedience? heav'n-constructed cell,
Wherein, as in a temple, Love doth dwell,
While tempests war around, with suppliant eyes
To penitential prayer composed well,
Awaiting, till the Day-spring shall arise,
And with the Judgment ope the everlasting skies.
