 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
132
IN COLOGNE CATHEDRAL
I felt the glories of the ancient shrine
Wrap me about with harmonies divine.
The childlike faith, the earnest sacrifice,
The inspiration of the truly wise.
Wrap me about with harmonies divine.
The childlike faith, the earnest sacrifice,
The inspiration of the truly wise.
Here musing souls for centuries have prayed,
Here hath man's bleeding heart atonement made.
What throngs devout, what aspirations vast
People the dreamy regions of the Past!
Here hath man's bleeding heart atonement made.
What throngs devout, what aspirations vast
People the dreamy regions of the Past!
But now the splendors of the later thought
Break on my dream, deliverance dearly bought
By martyr spirits that could waste and burn
With pangs enforced, our liberties to earn.
Break on my dream, deliverance dearly bought
By martyr spirits that could waste and burn
With pangs enforced, our liberties to earn.
Above the mass-bell the clear sentence rings,
Above the incense soar the angels' wings;
And for the mystic sentence, hid in light,
I see uprise the prophet's brow of might,
Chiding us human children from our toys,
Meting our tasks out with unflinching voice.
O holy Past! O Future, dear to me!
I stand between in God's eternity.
Above the incense soar the angels' wings;
And for the mystic sentence, hid in light,
I see uprise the prophet's brow of might,
Chiding us human children from our toys,
Meting our tasks out with unflinching voice.
O holy Past! O Future, dear to me!
I stand between in God's eternity.
| From Sunset Ridge | |