WHEN all thy serenades are sung, And all thy gay novelles are told, When all thy roses red are flung, And all thy loves are waxen cold, When all the tapers honey-white Have failed the Masquer of Delight:— Then like a bedesman come assay The carven door of Misericorde, Pass down the long grey aisle to pray Largesse from thy forgotten Lord, Wide are the great Cathedral gates, And high upon the Cross He waits. Where scarlet is the light, and blue, And all the peace is love and death, Come, prodigal, and never rue Thy portion spent. The sobbing breath, The empty hands, the broken heart, Those be His own, His chosen part. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR THE INVESTITURE by CECIL DAY LEWIS DESPAIR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON I SING OF LOVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON RETROSPECT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MIDDLETON PLACE by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: THE CONVENT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |