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Pine,
Rose and Fleur de Lis
by
Susie Frances Harrison
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TINTERN
ABBEY
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To wear
its image—seal’d—fix’d mentally,
Pinn’d to my heart’s eyes-old, smooth-worn,
gray stone,
Green-lichen’d, ivy-curtain’d, blossom-blown
In stray sweet crevices—this is fealty!
O, I could never look enough, but see
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Some
new divinity each second, grown
By the potent centuries—guardians. There,
alone,
Girdled by hills it rested, and to me
The great rose window form’d a glorious fane,
Mightier than other I had ever seen,
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And
when I lifted awed eyes, finite brain,
To the open blue, where once a roof had been,
I knew from innumerable, awful winnowings
There was more room for our great God’s wide
wings.
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