WHAT of Louvain and of Rheims <br />Made for God by man? What then? <br />Here be temples more than man's <br />Wrought by God for His own men. <br /> <br /> <br />Scattered in the rain and frost, <br />Marred of beauty, there they be, <br />Temples of the Holy Ghost, <br />Broken, ruined piteously. <br /> <br /> <br />Bodies all so finely wrought, <br />Cunning deftness shaped them well; <br />These, God's ultimate, loving thought <br />For His Spirit's citadel. <br /> <br /> <br />Beautiful from head to foot, <br />Young, dear darlings all unflawed <br />For their mother's kiss. What brute <br />Dares deface the image of God? <br /> <br /> <br />Oh, the Temple's down! all marred <br />Gay and golden boys must lie: <br />Bitter-sweet as spikenard <br />Is the old name we called them by. <br /> <br /> <br />Hush! God's Temple in its fall <br />Breaks to set the spirit free <br />From the golden cage and thrall. <br />Into heaven-winged liberty. <br /> <br /> <br />From the cage the bird is flown, <br />Sings so high above our sphere. <br />Hush,--be never a sigh or moan: <br />The fledged bird flies without fear. <br /> <br /> <br />All our loves are gathered in, <br />Every gay and golden lad; <br />On new raiment, white and clean, <br />They behold God and are glad.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-temple-2/
