27.12.2010, 12:11
A NON-NATURAL EASTER.
Ill fares the priest to-day, who bUnks the faith
Of Easter, and, recoiling from the shock
Of the great theme submitted to his flock,
Reserves his thoughts about the Life and Death ;
How false he feels when our high feast returns !
While, in his pulpit, on his sidelong eye
The chalice gleams, the great East window burns,
The snow-white board obtrudes its purity ;
And he must go and bless it—yea, he goes !
Though covert ironies within him ask
Whether, in very deed, our Day-star rose ;
'Tis sad to see him how he takes his mask
To meet the morning ! timid and untrue.
And missing all the sweet airs and the dew !
Ill fares the priest to-day, who bUnks the faith
Of Easter, and, recoiling from the shock
Of the great theme submitted to his flock,
Reserves his thoughts about the Life and Death ;
How false he feels when our high feast returns !
While, in his pulpit, on his sidelong eye
The chalice gleams, the great East window burns,
The snow-white board obtrudes its purity ;
And he must go and bless it—yea, he goes !
Though covert ironies within him ask
Whether, in very deed, our Day-star rose ;
'Tis sad to see him how he takes his mask
To meet the morning ! timid and untrue.
And missing all the sweet airs and the dew !