The Cathedral

Cathedral heights among the midnight stars,
Ye are as mountains in sublimity !
Your phantom towers, aerial forms on high,
By whispering groves surrounded, for our wars,
And puny whirl of foolish strife, that mars
Our poor brief lives, arraign humanity ;
The vasty fane through rifts of shadowy tree
Some city of departed souls appears.
But in the morning, solemn sounds are rolled
Through forest gloom of jewelled nave and aisle ;
Young tones swift-soaringmazyflowersunfold,
Now fall like dew, now float like a sun-smile;
The sweet wind of their music seems to mould
Yon high fan-roof that undulates the while.

Ely, 1884.