Forms of saints and kings are standing <br />The cathedral door above; <br />Yet I saw but one among them <br />Who hath soothed my soul with love. <br /> <br />In his mantle,--wound about him, <br />As their robes the sowers wind,-- <br />Bore he swallows and their fledglings, <br />Flowers and weeds of every kind. <br /> <br />And so stands he calm and childlike, <br />High in wind and tempest wild; <br />O, were I like him exalted, <br />I would be like him, a child! <br /> <br />And my songs,--green leaves and blossoms,-- <br />To the doors of heaven would hear, <br />Calling even in storm and tempest, <br />Round me still these birds of air.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-statue-over-the-cathedral-door-from-the-german-of-julius-mosen/
