THROUGH A LONG CLOISTER

By Frank Oliver Call

Through a long cloister where the gloom of night

Lingers in sombre silence all the day,

Across worn pavements crumbling to decay

We wandered, blindly groping for the light.

A door swung wide, and splendour infinite

Streamed through the painted glass, and drove away

The lingering gloom from choir, nave and bay,

And a great minster's glory met our sight.

Blindly along life's cloister do we grope,

We seek a gate that leads to life immortal,

We see it loom before us dim and vast,

And doubt's dark shadow's veil the light of hope:

When lo, Death's hand flings wide the sombre portal,

And light unfading meets our gaze at last.