I Have Been Through The Gates

By Charlotte Mary Mew

His heart to me, was a place of palaces and pinnacles and shining towers;

I saw it then as we see things in dreams,—I do not remember how long I slept;

I remember the tress, and the high, white walls, and how the sun was always on the

         towers;

The walls are standing to-day, and the gates; I have been through the gates, I have

         groped, I have crept

Back, back. There is dust in the streets, and blood; they are empty; darkness is over

         them;

His heart is a place with the lights gone out, forsaken by great winds and the heavenly

         rain, unclean and unswept,

Like the heart of the holy city, old blind, beautiful Jerusalem;

                    Over which Christ wept