|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WESTMINSTER ABBEY, by SAMUEL FERGUSON Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: From england's gilded halls of state | |||
ON HEARING WEEK-DAY SERVICE THERE, SEPTEMBER, 1858. From England's gilded halls of state I cross'd the Western Minster's gate. And, 'mid the tombs of England's dead, I heard the Holy Scriptures read. The walls around and pillar' d piers Had stood well-nigh seven hundred years; The words the priest gave forth had stood Since Christ, and since before the Flood. A thousand hearts around partook The comfort of the Holy Book; Ten thousand suppliant hands were spread In lifted stone above my head In dust decay'd the hands are gone That fed and set the builders on; In heedless dust the fingers lie That hew'd and heav'd the stones on high; And back to earth and air resolv'd The brain that plann'd and pois'd the vault But undecay'd, erect, and fair, To heaven ascends the builded Prayer, With majesty of strength and size, With glory of harmonious dyes, With holy airs of heavenward thought From floor to roof divinely fraught. Fall down, ye bars: enlarge, my soul! To heart's content take in the whole; And, spurning pride's injurious thrall. With loyal love embrace them all! Yet hold not lightly home; nor yet The graves on Dunagore forget; Nor grudge the stone-gilt stall to change For humble bench of Gorman's Grange. The self-same Word bestows its cheer On simple creatures there as here; And thence, as hence, poor souls do rise In social flight to common skies. For in the Presence vast and good, That bends o'er all our livelihood, With humankind in heavenly cure. We all are like, we all are poor. His poor, be sure, shall never want For service meet or seemly chant, And for the Gospel's joyful sound A fitting place shall still be found; Whether the organ's solemn tones Thrill through the dust of warriors' bones, Or voices of the village choir From swallow-haunted eaves aspire, Or, sped with healing on its wings, The Word solicit ears of kings. Or stir the souls, in moorland glen, Of kingless covenanted men. Enough for thee, indulgent Lord, The willing ear to hear Thy Word, - The rising of the burthen'd breast - And thou suppliest all the rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAIRY THORN; AN ULSTER BALLAD by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE PRETTY GIRL OF LOCH DAN by SAMUEL FERGUSON AIDEEN'S GRAVE by SAMUEL FERGUSON GRACE O'MALY by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE BURIAL OF KING CORMAC by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE FORESTER'S COMPLAINT by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE FORGING OF THE ANCHOR by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE GIANT WALKER by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE WASHER OF THE FORD by SAMUEL FERGUSON WELSHMAN OF TIRAWLEY by SAMUEL FERGUSON |
|