 | A Sonnet Chronicle |  |
61
At the Baptism of the Czarevitch
August 24, 1904.
In the huge Kremlin's many-gated hold
Stands a small church with turbaned towers aflame,
And there to-day they gave a babe his name,
And prayed that name among the saints enrolled
Might shine at Doomsday; prayed that Christ should fold
Heart to His heart till going where he came
The Czar should enter Heaven with acclaim,
And feel upon his brow Life's crown of gold.
Stands a small church with turbaned towers aflame,
And there to-day they gave a babe his name,
And prayed that name among the saints enrolled
Might shine at Doomsday; prayed that Christ should fold
Heart to His heart till going where he came
The Czar should enter Heaven with acclaim,
And feel upon his brow Life's crown of gold.
But through the organ notes of priest was borne
Another voice—the boom and burst of shell,
Above the incense rose another mist—
The sulphurous scent of weapons forged in Hell,
And thro' the cloud I saw the sad-faced Christ
Place on the baby's brow a crown of thorn.
Another voice—the boom and burst of shell,
Above the incense rose another mist—
The sulphurous scent of weapons forged in Hell,
And thro' the cloud I saw the sad-faced Christ
Place on the baby's brow a crown of thorn.
| A Sonnet Chronicle | |