Classic Poem

But when he came to the hill of the Vision of the Golden City,
He paused:
Pilgrims in grey were going in slow processional up the slope ...

It was grey twilight, and out of the hidden valley beyond
The bells were beating solemnly,
And peace was on the planet ...
Through the grey air the grey procession wandered ...

Then the leader, a simple religious man,
With beard, and clear untroubled eyes,
Turned to the youth and spoke to him ...

" Son, you are troubled! "

The lad felt suddenly that he could say all:
This man was a sky of understanding ...

" All is vanity, " he said, " and the world is foul:
I am beset with life's perils. "

" Then, " said the leader, " turn unto God:
Put on a grey robe of forgetfulness
And turn inward from the world ...
" He giveth his beloved, peace ..." "

Night poured her stars out into the gulf of grey,
And all was still:
He took the robe, and followed.