The South Transept: The Epistle and Gospel XXV

Shall burst from all its flood-gates, with the light
Ushering the Judge's presence. Mother dear,
Oft as thy courts I enter, day or night,
Thy voice is of forgiveness, full and clear,
Hast thou no daily baptism ? — much I fear ;
Yet something o'er thine ancient threshold flings
A dewy freshness ; where the fount stands near
Of our new birth-right, Hope reviving springs,
And o'er my fever'd brow soft waves her healing wings.