Once more the temple-gates lie open wide: <br /> Onward, once more, <br /> Advance the Faithful, mounting like a tide <br /> That climbs the shore. <br /> <br /> What seek they? Blank the altars stand today, <br /> As tombstones bare: <br /> Christ of his raiment was despoiled; and they <br /> His livery wear. <br /> <br /> Today the puissant and the proud have heard <br /> The 'mandate new': <br /> That which He did, their Master and their Lord, <br /> They also do. <br /> <br /> Today the mitred foreheads, and the crowned, <br /> In meekness bend: <br /> New tasks today the sceptred hands have found; <br /> The poor they tend. <br /> <br /> Today those feet which tread in lowliest ways, <br /> Yet follow Christ, <br /> Are by the secular lords of power and praise <br /> Both washed and kissed. <br /> <br /> Hail, ordinance sage of hoar antiquity, <br /> Which She retains, <br /> That Church who teaches man how meek should be <br /> The head that reigns!<br /><br />Aubrey Thomas de Vere<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-washing-of-the-feet-on-holy-thursday-in-st-peter-s/
