I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade <br />Thy western window, Chapel of St. John! <br />And hear its leaves repeat their benison <br />On him, whose hand thy stones memorial laid; <br />Then I remember one of whom was said <br />In the world's darkest hour, "Behold thy son!" <br />And see him living still, and wandering on <br />And waiting for the advent long delayed. <br />Not only tongues of the apostles teach <br />Lessons of love and light, but these expanding <br />And sheltering boughs with all their leaves implore, <br />And say in language clear as human speech, <br />"The peace of God, that passeth understanding, <br />Be and abide with you forevermore!"<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/st-john-s-cambridge/
