O Covenant! O Temple! O trail pride <br />Of God’s high glory! Set your snowy feet <br />On the Red Mountain, while the pinions beat <br />Of proximate apocalypse. Uncried <br />Halloos of havoc, prophecies denied <br />Fulfilment till the Dawn of Wonder, fleet <br />In songs precursive down the glittering street <br />Where dripped the blood from wounded brows and side. <br /> <br />And you must walk the mountain tops where rode <br />Gabriel, Raphael, Michael, when the stars <br />Fell from their places, and where Satan strode <br />To make his leap. Now bend the cracking spars <br />Athwart the mast of the world—and five deep scars <br />From that strong Cross call you to their abode.<br /><br />Joseph Mary Plunkett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-living-temple-2/
