CCXLI At the Church Gate
Although I enter not,
Yet round about the spot
Ofttimes I hover;
And near the sacred gate
With longing eyes I wait, 5
Expectant of her.
The Minster bell tolls out
Above the city’s rout,
And noise and humming:
They’ve hushed the Minster bell: 10
The organ ’gins to swell:
She’s coming, she’s coming!
My lady comes at last,
Timid, and stepping fast,
And hastening hither, 15
With modest eyes downcast:
She comes—she’s here—she’s past—
May Heaven go with her!
Kneel, undisturbed, fair Saint!
Pour out your praise or plaint 20
Meekly and duly;
I will not enter there,
To sully your pure prayer
With thoughts unruly.
But suffer me to pace 25
Round the forbidden place,
Lingering a minute,
Like outcast spirits who wait
And see through Heaven’s gate
Angels within it. 30
William Makepeace Thackeray.