SISTER, first shake we off the dust we have Upon our feet, lest it defile the stones Inscriptured, covering their sacred bones Who lie i' the aisles which keep the names they gave, Their trust abiding round them in the grave; Whom painters paint for visible orisons, And to whom sculptors pray in stone and bronze; Their voices echo still like a spent wave. Without here, the church-bells are but a tune, And on the carven church-door this hot noon Lays all its heavy sunshine here without: But having entered in, we shall find there Silence, and sudden dimness, and deep prayer, And faces of crowned angels all about. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LITTLE BOY BLUE by EUGENE FIELD ABOU BEN ADHEM by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT FROM THE ANTIQUE (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI WRITTEN IN IRELAND by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS; A LEGEND OF GERMANY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |