Page:Roden Noel - A Little Child's Monument - 1881.pdf/22



I.

the grey cathedral, In the aisles of twilight, Wails an awful music, Whelming my drowned spirit Fathom-deep in woe. The hoar stone of ages Palpitates disaster, Breathes aware with sorrow, Weighs me down to death! All the immense wan spaces Pregnant with dead faces, Cold, carven forms arise! And grey walls bring forth! Vasty vans of darkness, Swordsweeps of desolation, Hound me to dim death! Born from the deep ocean