The North Transept: The Psalms XVI

Ever, sweet Psalmist, lead the sounding key,
Humbling to duteous calm the thoughts that move
Responsive to our sacred Liturgy,
That they on holier wings may soar above
To Mercy's seat. O Bard of Heaven-taught love,
Striving in vain thy wounded heart to hide,
Soul-stricken mourner, like the bleeding dove
Deeper and deeper clasping 'neath her side
The barbs that drink her life, and in her heart abide.