Poems (Taylor)/Calvary
CALVARY
I.
Faint incense from the lily goes;
(O Calvary, O Calvary!)
Red, red as blood the drifted rose.
(O Calvary!)
I wove a glory for mine head;
The wind's great wings came sweeping by;—
And lo! a crown of thorns instead!
What old old dream dream I?
(O Calvary, O Calvary!)
Red, red as blood the drifted rose.
(O Calvary!)
I wove a glory for mine head;
The wind's great wings came sweeping by;—
And lo! a crown of thorns instead!
What old old dream dream I?
II.
Over the Field of Cloth of Gold
(O Calvary, O Calvary )
Love leads rare queens and soldans bold.
(O Calvary!)
A tyrannous white god is he,
And yet sometimes his eyes are wet:
Then murmur I: "Can these things be?
Hast Thou seen Olivet?"
(O Calvary, O Calvary )
Love leads rare queens and soldans bold.
(O Calvary!)
A tyrannous white god is he,
And yet sometimes his eyes are wet:
Then murmur I: "Can these things be?
Hast Thou seen Olivet?"
III.
I hear a chime of wistful bells.
(O Calvary, O Calvary!)
I have sung all my canticles:
(O Calvary!)
And there is One that calleth me
From Calvary.
The masques and dances hurt mine eyes
I feel the dream behind them all;
My rondels all ring round to sighs,
And oh! for evenfall!
(And where is Calvary?)
(O Calvary, O Calvary!)
I have sung all my canticles:
(O Calvary!)
And there is One that calleth me
From Calvary.
The masques and dances hurt mine eyes
I feel the dream behind them all;
My rondels all ring round to sighs,
And oh! for evenfall!
(And where is Calvary?)