The sanctuary made for me Is broken, wall and roof and stone; And where we stood, with oath to oath, I stand alone. For now that love's dear things have ceased, -- The past outlived is more than dead, -- The stained glass splinters into points, And pierces red. It is like solemn candles -- out, A crucifix that is all cross; A bell whose silence rings and rings To just a loss. The rosary of faith to faith Has broken slowly all its beads; It is as if the soul of me Disowned its creeds. And nave and transept, arch and aisle, Are ruins; yet my feet must go: But where stood corner-stone and spire I do not know. The prayers and altars answer not No more my name, no more my things; Instead of bread and wine, there are Rememberings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GHOSTS OF A LUNATIC ASYLUM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS TRAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES ON BRODSKY'S COLLECTED by MICHAEL S. HARPER |