The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems By James D. Burns ... Second Edition |
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LINES WRITTEN IN A FRANCISCAN CONVENT. |
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 | The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems |  |
174
LINES WRITTEN IN A FRANCISCAN CONVENT.
How oft from this small casement high,
When chanted was the vesper-psalm,
The lonely monk has raised his eye
Toward that heaven so pure and calm,
And watched the moonlight showering pale
Upon the church and trees below,
And heard the soft and wandering wail
Of waters in perpetual flow!
When chanted was the vesper-psalm,
The lonely monk has raised his eye
Toward that heaven so pure and calm,
And watched the moonlight showering pale
Upon the church and trees below,
And heard the soft and wandering wail
Of waters in perpetual flow!
One looked, but sight so beautiful
Awoke no answering thrill in him;
And, with a heart benumbed and dull,
He saw as if his eye were dim.
No charm to him, no solemn sound,
Had waves, or winds, or clouds, or stars,—
His range of thought the cloister bound,
And in his soul he wore its bars.
Awoke no answering thrill in him;
And, with a heart benumbed and dull,
He saw as if his eye were dim.
No charm to him, no solemn sound,
Had waves, or winds, or clouds, or stars,—
His range of thought the cloister bound,
And in his soul he wore its bars.
175
Perchance, some mind of finer mould
Has gazed up that clear, starry air,
And seen the golden gates unfold,
And wings of angels waving fair,—
In trance beheld the Virgin nigh,
Heard voices sweet and heavenly sounds,—
While, smiling on his votary,
St. Francis showed his mystic wounds.
Has gazed up that clear, starry air,
And seen the golden gates unfold,
And wings of angels waving fair,—
In trance beheld the Virgin nigh,
Heard voices sweet and heavenly sounds,—
While, smiling on his votary,
St. Francis showed his mystic wounds.
One, with a heart of slumbering power,
Once scathed by passion's fiery glow,
May here have stood, and blessed the hour
His lips pronounced the awful vow.
From envy, pride, and care, release
He may have found in cloistered walls,
And fancied he had grasped the peace
That is no guest in pleasure's halls.
Once scathed by passion's fiery glow,
May here have stood, and blessed the hour
His lips pronounced the awful vow.
From envy, pride, and care, release
He may have found in cloistered walls,
And fancied he had grasped the peace
That is no guest in pleasure's halls.
How many felt, through blighted years,
The writhing pangs of inward strife,
And mourned with unavailing tears
The error which had poisoned life,—
The bondage of a vow at war
With nature frenzied by control,
As if the cord and scapular
Could chain the fiends that haunt the soul!
The writhing pangs of inward strife,
And mourned with unavailing tears
The error which had poisoned life,—
The bondage of a vow at war
With nature frenzied by control,
As if the cord and scapular
Could chain the fiends that haunt the soul!
176
Their minds roamed sadly through the past
To youth, with hope's bright fancies flushed,
Ere clouds the prospect overcast,
Ere care life's opening blossom crushed;
Then weary days and nights forlorn,
The struggling mind, the sickening heart,
Till, in the conflict overborne,
Then weary days and nights forlorn,
All earthly ties they rent apart.
To youth, with hope's bright fancies flushed,
Ere clouds the prospect overcast,
Ere care life's opening blossom crushed;
Then weary days and nights forlorn,
The struggling mind, the sickening heart,
Till, in the conflict overborne,
Then weary days and nights forlorn,
All earthly ties they rent apart.
They sought the fenced, the holy ground,—
Behind them died the world's vain din,—
But soon, alas! to soon, they found
That they had brought the world within.
Beyond its outward range they passed,
And vainly hoped its power to foil;
Out from the heart the world to cast,—
This was the duty, this the toil.
Behind them died the world's vain din,—
But soon, alas! to soon, they found
That they had brought the world within.
Beyond its outward range they passed,
And vainly hoped its power to foil;
Out from the heart the world to cast,—
This was the duty, this the toil.
So Jerome through the streets of Rome
Could wander with undazzled eyes,
In lordly mansions seek no home,
And all its pomp and pride despise;
But in the wilds, the singing bird
Brought back Rome's voice on every wind,
And every leaf, that idly stirred,
The thought of friends left far behind.
Could wander with undazzled eyes,
In lordly mansions seek no home,
And all its pomp and pride despise;
But in the wilds, the singing bird
Brought back Rome's voice on every wind,
And every leaf, that idly stirred,
The thought of friends left far behind.
177
Some died in hoary age, some young,
Their hearts grief-cankered at the core,—
And bells were rung, and psalms were sung,
When opened was the chancel floor;
They moulder there, that ghastly band,—
Their shadows glimmer through the gloom,—
And I, a stranger in the land,
Muse mournfully above their tomb.
Their hearts grief-cankered at the core,—
And bells were rung, and psalms were sung,
When opened was the chancel floor;
They moulder there, that ghastly band,—
Their shadows glimmer through the gloom,—
And I, a stranger in the land,
Muse mournfully above their tomb.
| The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems | |