Page:Flower of youth, poems in war time, Tynan, 1915.djvu/32

30 Oh, the Temple's down! all marred

Gay and golden boys must lie:

Bitter-sweet as spikenard

Is the old name we called them by.

Hush! God's Temple in its fall

Breaks to set the spirit free

From the golden cage and thrall

Into heaven-winged liberty.

From the cage the bird is flown,

Sings so high above our sphere.

Hush,—be never a sigh or moan:

The fledged bird flies without fear.

All our loves are gathered in,

Every gay and golden lad;

On new raiment, white and clean,

They behold God and are glad.