Page:Songs of the Soul (1923).djvu/29

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SONGS OF THE SOUL

WHERE I AM

Not the lordly domes on highWith tall heads daring clouds and sky,Nor alabaster shining floors,Nor the rich organ’s awesome roar,Nor rainbowed windows’ beauty quaintWith colossal chronicles told in paint,Nor torch nor incense’ curling soar,Nor gay-dressed children of the choir,Nor well-planned sermon,Nor loud-tongued prayerCan call Me there.The richly carven door,Through which all pomp and pride pour,I deign not through to go;—But still I come Incognito.The stony, polished altarOr narrow builded sermon seatToo narrow seems to holdMy large, large Body for retreat.A humble magnet-call,

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