Saint Ouen
Oh shrive my soul, Belovèd! Yesterday
I placed two candles, straight and slim and fair
Before a virgin’s altar, kneeling there
For our united lives and love to pray.
Around me the cathedral’s stillness lay;
The mystery of God was everywhere;
Lifting the misty aisles through incensed air
Uprose the threading pillars, dim and grey.
God heard my prayer: and He forgave my need,
If after that day’s grace and majesty
I fall and pay my sin with bitter cost;—
You who have taught me prayer again, and creed,
Bend down in dear forgiveness unto me!
Shrive me, Belovèd! or my soul is lost.