Poems: Old and New

by Frederick George Scott




UNSEEN in the great minster dome of time,
   Whose shafts are centuries, its spangled roof
      The vaulted universe, our master sits,
And organ-voices like a far-off chime
      Roll thro’ the aisles of thought. The sunlight flits
    From arch to arch, and, as he sits aloof,
Kings, heroes, priests, in concourse vast, sublime,
      Glances of love and cries from battle-field,
    His wizard power breathes on the living air.
Warm faces gleam and pass, child, woman, man,
       In the long multitude; but he, concealed,
Our bard eludes us. Vainly each face we scan,
   It is not he; his features are not there;
      But, being thus hid, his greatness is revealed. [Page 144]