Outside The Church

I passed without, what time the organ pealed The last high rapture of a stately hymn, And lingering where upon the twilight dim The storied windows, rich with warmth, revealed A pitying Christ ’mid humble shapes that kneeled, Heard the punctilious Priest intone a grim Creed-curse of some dead, earthly sanhedrim, As if it opened all that God has sealed.

Not mine that perfect faith which strangely soothes The world’s disquiet where it enters in, And yet I bear, through every night of doubt, A heart of hope made glad by simple truths: No door, O Priest! shuts all God’s light within, His stars are with me in the dark without.