The Human Temple

By Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The Temple in Darkness

Darkness broods upon the temple,  

Glooms along the lonely aisles,  

Fills up all the orient window,  

 Whence, like little children’s wiles,  

Shadows—purple, azure, golden—          

 Broke upon the floor in smiles.  

 

From the great heart of the organ  

 Bursts no voice of chant or psalm;  

All the air, by music-pulses  

 Stirred no more, is deathly calm;        

And no precious incense rising,  

 Falls, like good men’s prayer, in balm.  

 

Not a sound of living footstep  

 Echoes on the marble floor;  

Not a sigh of stranger passing        

 Pierces through the closèd door;  

Quenched the light upon the altar:  

 Where the priest stood, none stands more.  

 

Lord, why hast Thou left Thy temple  

 Scorned of man, disowned by Thee!        

Rather let Thy right hand crush it,  

 None its desolation see!  

List—‘He who the temple builded  

 Doth His will there. Let it be!’  

 

A Light in the Temple

Lo, a light within the temple!        

 Whence it cometh no man knows;  

Barred the doors: the night-black windows  

 Stand apart in solemn rows,  

All without seems gloom eternal,  

 Yet the glimmer comes and goes—        

 

As if silent-footed angels  

 Through the dim aisles wandered fair,  

Only traced amid the darkness,  

 By the glory in their hair,  

Till at the forsaken altar        

 They all met, and praised God there.  

 

Now the light grows—fuller, clearer;  

 Hark, the organ ’gins to sound.  

Faint, like broken spirit crying  

 Unto Heaven from the ground;        

While the chorus of the angels  

 Mingles everywhere around.  

 

See, the altar shines all radiant,  

 Though no mortal priest there stands,  

And no earthly congregation        

 Worships with uplifted hands:  

Yet they gather, slow and saintly,  

 In innumerable bands.  

 

And the chant celestial rises  

 Where the human prayers have ceased:        

No tear-sacrifice is offered,  

 For all anguish is appeased,  

Through its night of desolation,  

 To His temple comes the Priest.