Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE REVERSE OF THE GOLDEN SHIELD (AN EASTER MORNING REVERIE), by WILL MAJOR MAUPIN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE REVERSE OF THE GOLDEN SHIELD (AN EASTER MORNING REVERIE), by                    
First Line: Along the chancel rail, and on the altar stair
Last Line: Starve, and within the shadow of his church to-day.
Subject(s): Churches; Easter; Flowers; God; Holidays; Lilies; Prayer; Cathedrals; The Resurrection


ALONG the chancel rail, and on the altar stair,
The sweetest lilies give their fragrance to the air.
The deep-toned organ swells,
And vested choir in richest, fullest chord,
Sings songs of praises unto the risen Lord.
Each ringing anthem tells
That from the dark and dismal earthly prison
The King of Kings and Lord of Lords is risen.

The nodding plumes on heads bowed down in prayer;
The incense of sweet blossoms on the quiet air,
The flashing gems and gold;
The soft and silken rustle, the content
On every face for richest blessing sent
On these within the fold —
All these amidst the Easter lilies' fragrant bloom
Drive care away and glorious light drives out the gloom.

But what of those for whom no blooming lilies fair
Shed richest fragrance on the Easter morning air?
God's poor, to whom content
Means but a crust, a rag for shivering forms,
A hovel as a home from all life's storms —
In filth-strewn tenement.
Souls seared by sin because God's holy word
As taught in yon great church is never heard.

The children of the sweat-shop, starving, sunken-eyed!
Was't not for such as these the Gentle Master died?
Have they no place and part?
Hopeless, soul-starved, with blank and tear-stained face,
Have they, in all this Easter pomp and pride, no place?
Can there be contrite heart
Within the breast of one who 'midst the lilies kneels
And for these little ones no touch of pity feels?

The perfumed flowers upon your corsage white
Would mean to starving children food and clothes and light.
Each diamond-studded ring
Upon your hand, unmarked by toil or care,
Would give a thousand children God's fresh air,
And richest roses bring
Back to their sunken cheeks. You think God ever hears
The empty prayers above the children's falling tears?

Loud ring the Easter bells; the solemn anthems rise
Through nave and church — the while the child slave starves and dies
Within their glorious sounds.
Grim Death stalks 'round, with misery, want, and woe
To mark the path where Death walks sentry-go.
"The Lord is risen — Love abounds!"
But thousands of His loved ones — of such is the Kingdom they —
Starve, and within the shadow of His church to-day.





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