Classic Poem

In the grey church, by the slow river side,
Hard by the altar, calling the altar's God,
That one who erst had spread his wings abroad
And sail'd remote in dim great worlds and wide,
Knowing the mystery of them, and the pride
Of kingship over them that earth-ways trod,
Prouder than Pride and greater, kist the rod,
Took up the Cross, and, calling on Christ, died.
His grave long vision that swept beyond our ken
Saw golden Harmony, steadfast passionless Measure,
And Order stablisht by divine decree;
Knew those who bent to Destiny, bravest men,
That with unwinking eyes did God's good pleasure:
He therefore, soul upright, did bend his knee.