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"Poems / William Vaughn Moody [electronic text]." In the digital collection American Verse Project. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/BAC5690.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 7, 2024.
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descriptionPage [84]
II
AT ASSISI
Before St. Francis' burg I wait,Frozen in spirit, faint with dread;His presence stands within the gate,Mild splendor rings his head.Gently he seems to welcome me:Knows he not I am quick, and heIs dead, and priest of the dead?
I turn away from the gray church pile;I dare not enter, thus undone:Here in the roadside grass awhileI will lie and watch for the sun.Too purged of earth's good glee and strife,Too drained of the honied lusts of life,Was the peace these old saints won!
And lo! how the laughing earth says noTo the fear that mastered me;To the blood that aches and clamors soHow it whispers "Verily."
descriptionPage 85
Here by my side, marvelous-dyed,Bold stray-away from the courts of pride,A poppy-bell flaunts free.
St. Francis sleeps upon his hill,And a poppy flower laughs down his creed;Triumphant light her petals spill,His shrines are dim indeed.Men build and plan, but the soul of man,Coming with haughty eyes to scan,Feels richer, wilder need.
How long, old builder Time, wilt bideTill at thy thrilling wordLife's crimson pride shall have to brideThe spirit's white accord,Within that gate of good estateWhich thou must build us soon or late,Hoar workman of the Lord?
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