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The Second Book of Modern Verse · Chapter 2I
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Sanctuary
How may one hold these days of wonderment And bind them into stillness with a thong, Ere as a fleeting dream they pass along Into the waste of lovely things forspent; How may one keep what the Great Powers have sent, The prayers fulfilled more beautiful and strong Than any thought could fashion into song Of all the rarest harmonies inblent?
There is an Altar where they may be laid And sealed in Faith within Its sacred care, — Here they are safe unto the very end; For these are of the things that never fade, Brought from the City that is built four-square, The gifts of Him who is the Perfect Friend.