Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE BAPTISTRY, by ADA CAMBRIDGE Poet's Biography First Line: One winter eve, at twilight, when the sound Last Line: But only light -- the full light -- at the end. Alternate Author Name(s): Cross, George, Mrs. Subject(s): Heaven; Conduct Of Life | ||||||||
ONE winter eve, at twilight, when the sound Of sorrowful winds scarce troubled Nature's rest, As she lay sleeping, with her hair unbound, Holding her grey robe to her shivering breast, I enter'd through a low-arch'd oaken door, Circled with curious sculpture; and I crept With slow, hush'd footsteps, o'er the shadow'd floor, Where organ notes in sudden silence slept; Far down the aisle, where darkness seem'd to brood With such wide-spreading wings, and where the sigh Of murmur'd prayer scarce came, -- until I stood In the deep stillness of the Baptistry. There, in the dim side-chapel, no bright glow From jewelled windows on the wall was shed; No sunbeams rested on the font below, Or kiss'd those mighty arches overhead. Soft lines and curves went upward, and were lost In solemn shadow and in dreamy space; Only the level floor was faintly crost With glimmering brightness from the holy place. And, as I listen'd, I heard music sweet Trembling and swelling through the soundless air, Threading dark aisles, as if an angel's feet Were bidden bring God's message to me there. Ah! and the echo of those anthem notes Wanders and whispers in my heart for aye: In all my life the mystic language floats, Fitful and faint, as in my ears that day. One whom we knew had enter'd into rest -- Calm on the pillow lay his hoary head; And through that music spoke, in accents blest, Our holy Mother's voice, hallowing the dead, Telling of perfect peace, of labours done, Of long years' sorrow turned to joy at last -- The quiet sleep, when battles all are won -- The hush of evening when the day is past. I look'd upon the font, and mused of all Its wondrous meaning, till my thoughts grew dim And vast and shadowy as those columns tall; -- Morning of life for me -- death's night for him! How fancy tried to span that awful space Between the two -- between the here and there! To bridge the nave -- up to that blessed Place Where light and song stream'd on the chancel-stair! Dim recollections drifted through my brain -- Echoing footfalls of past childish years, When the baptismal robe had less of stain, E'en though unwash'd by penitential tears. I saw the gloomy shadows o'er my head, And sigh'd to think how I had suffer'd loss; I saw the soft light, and was comforted, -- I knew it shone straight from the chancel-cross. A few more steps, and then I stood below The towering minster coronet again; Down on my face that pure and gentle glow Fell, like a pitying kiss in time of pain. Down to my feet it stream'd; a passage dim, With hosts of phantom-shapes on either side, It drifted through; -- as songs of seraphim Drift through our mourning hearts at Easter-tide. Looking up then, I seem'd to see my life, -- A long, dim vista, where the rays descend -- Where light and darkness wage continual strife; But only light -- the full light -- at the end. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTRODUCTION TO THE WORLD by MATTHEA HARVEY SLOWLY: I FREQUENTLY SLOWLY WISH by LYN HEJINIAN MY LIFE: YET WE INSIST THAT LIFE IS FULL OF HAPPY CHANCE by LYN HEJINIAN CHAPTER HEADING by ERNEST HEMINGWAY PUNK HALF PANTHER by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA A CERTAIN MAN by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA GREEN-STRIPED MELONS by JANE HIRSHFIELD LIKE THE SMALL HOLE BY THE PATH-SIDE SOMETHING LIVES IN by JANE HIRSHFIELD |
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