The Prophecy of Westminster, And other Poems In Honour of Henry Edward, Cardinal Manning. By Harriet Eleanor Hamilton King |
 |
Archbishop's House, Westminster.
|
 | The Prophecy of Westminster, And other Poems |  |
41
Archbishop's House, Westminster.
A dark forbidding front it wears,
Yet like a lamp across the night
It sends its beams, and unawares
The world rejoices in its light;
This is the house, the door, the street,
Whereat all roads in focus meet.
Yet like a lamp across the night
It sends its beams, and unawares
The world rejoices in its light;
This is the house, the door, the street,
Whereat all roads in focus meet.
The little children fearlessly
Play on its steps, and climb around;
Although no superfluity
Of wealth within those walls is found,
The fostering, the glow, the air,
Of Charity they feel is there.
Play on its steps, and climb around;
Although no superfluity
Of wealth within those walls is found,
The fostering, the glow, the air,
Of Charity they feel is there.
The friendly darkness of that door
At nightfall shelters the despised;
The desolate, the shamed, the poor,
They come and go unrecognised:
But ah! they go not as they came,
Cheered by that soul of living flame.
At nightfall shelters the despised;
The desolate, the shamed, the poor,
They come and go unrecognised:
But ah! they go not as they came,
Cheered by that soul of living flame.
48
This whole vast city, all of it,
City of Peter and of Paul,
East-end and West-end, both are knit
In one without dividing wall;
All London's pulses seem to stir
From that one heart at Westminster.
City of Peter and of Paul,
East-end and West-end, both are knit
In one without dividing wall;
All London's pulses seem to stir
From that one heart at Westminster.
Seem?—Oh, the changed, the darkened ways!
The weary wilderness of stone!
Must we then speak of other days,
And of a comfort that is flown?
O face that we may meet no more!
Though we may enter at thy door.
The weary wilderness of stone!
Must we then speak of other days,
And of a comfort that is flown?
O face that we may meet no more!
Though we may enter at thy door.
Beauty of childhood and of youth,
Of motherhood, and manhood's prime:—
And yet I never knew in truth
How far the human soul could climb
Up to the glorious face of God,
Till before that old man I stood.
Of motherhood, and manhood's prime:—
And yet I never knew in truth
How far the human soul could climb
Up to the glorious face of God,
Till before that old man I stood.
49
So old, so lonely, and so frail,
The heart has ached to leave him there,
While all without was golden-pale
With summer warmth and summer air;
Those bleachèd hands the sun had missed,
Pierced by their pathos as we kissed.
The heart has ached to leave him there,
While all without was golden-pale
With summer warmth and summer air;
Those bleachèd hands the sun had missed,
Pierced by their pathos as we kissed.
But O our Saint! for unreproved
At last we may pronounce thy name,
Our own even yet, our most beloved,
Is not thy heart to us the same?
Thy trial past, on that safe shore,
Dost thou not pity us the more?
At last we may pronounce thy name,
Our own even yet, our most beloved,
Is not thy heart to us the same?
Thy trial past, on that safe shore,
Dost thou not pity us the more?
Pray for us, help us, as our pain
Grows heavier, and thou art not here;
The dark, the desolate days remain,
Despair has come too near, too near;
We were thy children:—can it be
We shall be lost in spite of thee?
Grows heavier, and thou art not here;
The dark, the desolate days remain,
Despair has come too near, too near;
We were thy children:—can it be
We shall be lost in spite of thee?
| The Prophecy of Westminster, And other Poems | |