Christ leaves to-day the little gazing crowd Upon the Mount, as straight to Heaven He fares; O! let us follow Him with hymns and prayers Up to the skirts of that receiving cloud; But lo! the preacher hath no hope, no trust, Nor can he, 'mid our coming Whitsun songs, Make common cause with all those fiery tongues That hail the glories of the Pentecost; But, if he ever thought it joy to meet The faithful - if that memory thrills him yet - Full surely must he feel some fond regret, At parting with a creed so grand and sweet; A grief, as when forsaken Olivet Rolled sadly from beneath the Saviour's feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARMOZET by HILAIRE BELLOC DOMESDAY BOOK: DR. TRACE TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONG FOR THE LUDDITES by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BURIAL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1882 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN THE NIGHT by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |