LONG, long years my heart has worshipped whiteness; Whiteness of the pearl and of the lily, Whiteness of the roses brides have carried, Whiteness of the snows in wintry moonlight, Whiteness of the thoughts of little children, Whiteness of the dreams of youth and maiden, Whiteness of the deeds of men and women. Once I knew a soul whose white, white splendor Arched above me like the wings of angels, Made a chapel for my soul to pray in. God has given him asphodels for lilies, And for pearls the portals of the City, And for snows the white robes of the Blessed. * * * * * * * * Ah, the woe, the intolerable anguish Of the stains that mar life's virgin fabric, Ugly strangers in its weft of whiteness! Yet with chastened steps I journey onward, Musing on those white robes of the Blessed, Robes that have been washed in Love's own cleansing. And when nears the end, how kneels the spirit Unto whom appears the Lord of Whiteness, He whom wounded soldiers called White Comrade! Mighty Presence, glimmering through the shadow, May thy hand, compassionate, unsparing, Lead me to Thy citadels of whiteness! |