Home of the pure in heart and tranquil mind, <br />Temple of love's white silence, holy Night; <br />Greater than splendid thought or iron might, <br />Thy lofty peace unswept by any wind <br />Of human sorrow, leaves all care behind. <br />Uplifted to the zenith of thy height, <br />My world-worn spirit drinks thy calm delight, <br />And, chrysalis-like, lets slip its earthly rind. <br />The blinded feuds, base passions, and fierce guilt, <br />Vain pride and falseness that enslaved the day, <br />Here dwindle and fade with all that mocks and mars; <br />Where wisdom, awed, walks hushed with lips that pray. <br />'Neath this high minster, dim, invisible, built, <br />Vast, walled with deeps of space and roofed with stars.<br /><br />William Wilfred Campbell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/night-161/
