Brother of mine, good monk with cowlëd head, <br />Walled from that world which thou hast long since fled, <br />And pacing thy green close beyond the sea, <br />I send my heart to thee. <br /> <br />Down gust-sweet walks, bordered by lavender, <br />While eastward, westward, the mad swallows whir, <br />All afternoon poring thy missal fair, <br />Serene thou pacest there. <br /> <br />Mixed with the words and fitting like a tune, <br />Thou hearest distantly the voice of June,— <br />The little, gossipping noises in the grass, <br />The bees that come and pass. <br /> <br />Fades the long day; the pool behind the hedge <br />Burns like a rose within the windy sedge; <br />The lilies ghostlier grow in the dim air; <br />The convent windows flare. <br /> <br />Yet still thou lingerest; from pastures steep, <br />Past the barred gate the shepherd drives his sheep; <br />A nightingale breaks forth, and for a space <br />Makes sweeter the sweet place. <br /> <br />Then the gray monks by hooded twos and threes <br />Move chapelward beneath the flaming trees; <br />Closing thy book, back by the alleys fair <br />Thou followest to prayer. <br /> <br />Born to these brawling days, this work-sick age, <br />Oft long I for thy simpler heritage; <br />A thought of thee is like a breath of bloom <br />Blown through a noisy room. <br /> <br />For thou art quick, not dead. I picture thee <br />Forever in that close beyond the sea; <br />And find, despite this weather’s headlong stir, <br />Peace and a comforter.<br /><br />Lizette Woodworth Reese<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thomas-kempis/
