The Cloisters: The Holy Altar

Unto the East we turn, to which belong
More than the heart divines, or eye descries ;
There is the Altar which our life supplies.
The voice is silent, lest it should do wrong
To things which are too high for mortal tongue.
The Heavens are looking on with wondering eyes,
And Angel faces crowd the o'erhanging skies.
Shall men unheeding to the temple throng
Where God is present ? Watchful evermore,
Let calm Obeisance at Thine Altar wait,
And lowly-bowing Reverence keep the door
Of our dull hearts ; that there we may be brought
To the society of holy thought,
Revering God, to man compassionate.