Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SHRINE, by MURRAY C. KIRK



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SHRINE, by            
First Line: Lost winds, in blessing, rest upon this hill
Last Line: Attunes the heart to joy that wild birds sing.
Subject(s): Prayer; Shrines


Lost winds, in blessing, rest upon this hill,
Where broken columns crumble to the sea;
And cedars with the dews of morn distill
Their incensed prayer. In living phantasy
Slow wends the vestal train and Priest of Fire
From out this ancient grove to greet the sun,
With first-born of the flock raised on the pyre,
To sacred chant and mystic rite begun.

Unchanged, the clinging hush of ages lost
Lies on this place where death was glorified;
Yet, through the dusk of blighting chill and frost
A myriad blossoms glow in risen tide.
Pale sorrow lifts and warm, sweet breath of spring
Attunes the heart to joy that wild birds sing.





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