In vaulted place where shadows flit, An upright sombre box you see: A door, but fast, and lattice none, But punctured holes minutely small In lateral silver panel square Above a kneeling-board without, Suggest an aim if not declare. Who bendeth here the tremulous knee No glimpse may get of him within, And he immured may hardly see The soul confessing there the sin; Nor yields the low-sieved voice a tone Whereby the murmurer may be known. Dread diving-bell! In thee inurned What hollows the priest must sound, Descending into consciences Where more is hid than found. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEAD HEROES by ISAAC ROSENBERG FESTE'S SONG (1), FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SONNET: 57 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE HOME'S A NEST by WILLIAM BARNES IMPROMPTU by FRANCOIS JOACHIM DE PIERRE DE BERNIS EACH FLEETING DAY by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN |