No doubt to-morrow I will hide <br />My face from you, my King. <br />Let me rejoice this Sunday noon, <br />And kneel while gray priests sing. <br /> <br />It is not wisdom to forget. <br />But since it is my fate <br />Fill thou my soul with hidden wine <br />To make this white hour great. <br /> <br />My God, my God, this marvelous hour <br />I am your son I know. <br />Once in a thousand days your voice <br />Has laid temptation low.<br /><br />Vachel Lindsay<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-mass/
