Poems by Robert Nicoll Second edition: with numerous additions, and a memoir of the author |
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THE SAXON CHAPEL. |
 | Poems by Robert Nicoll |  |
THE SAXON CHAPEL.
A building rear'd by Saxon hands!
A fane, where Saxon hearts might pray!
They worshipped here long ages past—
We worship here to-day!
A fane, where Saxon hearts might pray!
They worshipped here long ages past—
We worship here to-day!
233
Since that low window-arch was bent,
There have been many a rise and fall;
And this lone temple of the poor
Stands preaching over all!
There have been many a rise and fall;
And this lone temple of the poor
Stands preaching over all!
The rude, rough Saxon rear'd it up
The temple of his God to be;
And here, in simple earnestness,
He came and bent the knee.
The temple of his God to be;
And here, in simple earnestness,
He came and bent the knee.
Then came the Norman, in his pride,
Attended by his Saxon slaves;
And then the priest of later times
Sang mass above their graves!
Attended by his Saxon slaves;
And then the priest of later times
Sang mass above their graves!
The mind grew free—the ancient faith,
With all its pomp and pageantry,
Fell down;—a spirit stern arose,
And said it should not be!
With all its pomp and pageantry,
Fell down;—a spirit stern arose,
And said it should not be!
And now, to-day the peasant hind
Beside that lowly altar knelt;
And, 'neath that roof, had feelings such
As Normans, Saxons, felt!
Beside that lowly altar knelt;
And, 'neath that roof, had feelings such
As Normans, Saxons, felt!
Come, Saxon, in thy rude attire—
Come, Norman, in thy coat of mail—
Come, priest, with cross and counted beads—
And, Parson, do not fail.
Come, Norman, in thy coat of mail—
Come, priest, with cross and counted beads—
And, Parson, do not fail.
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Beneath one roof ye all have pray'd—
Upon one floor have bent the knee;
Your creeds are far asunder rent—
But come and answer me.
Upon one floor have bent the knee;
Your creeds are far asunder rent—
But come and answer me.
As then you knelt, did upward rise
Each heart in love and gratitude?
Did each, in different form and name,
Adore the true and good?
Each heart in love and gratitude?
Did each, in different form and name,
Adore the true and good?
They answer, Yes! Then vanish all
Into oblivion once again,—
There is a holy lesson here;
I'll carry it to men!
Into oblivion once again,—
There is a holy lesson here;
I'll carry it to men!
The priest may sneer—the bigot curse—
I care not for the form and creed;
The earnest will be bless'd—the true
And pure, in word and deed!
I care not for the form and creed;
The earnest will be bless'd—the true
And pure, in word and deed!
The hands that rear'd these crumbling walls—
The hearts that long have ceased to live—
They did their part—a temple rear'd—
Which lessons bright doth give.
The hearts that long have ceased to live—
They did their part—a temple rear'd—
Which lessons bright doth give.
| Poems by Robert Nicoll | |