Saint Oran told them while the West grew dim About lone islands whither he had gone, And how he saw the orchards of the dawn Lying beyond the green earth's burnished rim; Upon that golden wall walked Cherubim Whose shadows were a snow-light on the lawn, And ere their gentle wonder was withdrawn One pitying held a starry branch toward him. The cowled monks listened, and at vesper bell They left him in a quiet place to dream By garden-ways where grasses drift like fleece; But when they reached the central ivied cell, Across the altar moved the crimson gleam Of that wild fruit of flame whose taste is peace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VOICES OF THE AIR by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER by FRANCIS SCOTT KEY A CLEAR MIDNIGHT by WALT WHITMAN WHIM ALLEY by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 37. AL-HALI by EDWIN ARNOLD |