Classic Poem

Ye who build the Churches of the Lord!
See that ye make the western porches low:
Let no one enter who disdains to bow.
High Truths profanely gazed at, unadored,
Will be abused at first, at last abhorred;
And many a learned, many a lofty brow
Hath rested, pillowed on a humbler vow
Than critic ken can notice or record.
O stainless peace of blest Humility!
Of all who fain would enter, few, alas!
Catch the true meaning of that kind, sad eye;
While thou, God's portress, stationed by His door,
Dost stretch thy cross so near the marble floor
That children only, without bending, pass.