'The Building of the Temple'

(AN ANTHEM HEARD IN CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL).

'The Organ.'

O Lord our G.o.d, we are strangers before Thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers: our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding.

O Lord G.o.d of our fathers, keep this for ever in the imagination of the thoughts of Thy people, and prepare their heart unto Thee.

And give unto Solomon my son a perfect heart to keep Thy commandments, and to build the palace for the which I have made provision.

'Boys' voices.'

O come to the Palace of Life, Let us build it again.

It was founded on terror and strife, It was laid in the curse of the womb, And pillared on toil and pain, And hung with veils of doom, And vaulted with the darkness of the tomb.

{213}.

'Men's voices.'

O Lord our G.o.d, we are sojourners here for a day, Strangers and sojourners, as all our fathers were: Our years on the earth are a shadow that fadeth away; Grant us light for our labour, and a time for prayer.

'Boys.'

But now with endless song, And joy fulfilling the Law; Of pa.s.sion as pure as strong And pleasure undimmed of awe; With garners of wine and grain Laid up for the ages long, Let us build the Palace again And enter with endless song, Enter and dwell secure, forgetting the years of wrong.

'Men.'

O Lord our G.o.d, we are strangers and sojourners here, Our beginning was night, and our end is hid in Thee: Our labour on the earth is hope redeeming fear, In sorrow we build for the days we shall not see.

'Boys.'

Great is the name Of the strong and skilled, Lasting the fame Of them that build:

{214}.

The tongues of many nations Shall speak of our praise, And far generations Be glad for our days.

'Men.'

We are sojourners here as all our fathers were, As all our children shall be, forgetting and forgot: The fame of man is a murmur that pa.s.seth on the air, We perish indeed if Thou remember not.

We are sojourners here as all our fathers were, Strangers travelling down to the land of death: There is neither work nor device nor knowledge there, O grant us might for our labour, and to rest in faith.

'Boys.'

In joy, in the joy of the light to be,

'Men.'

O Father of Lights, unvarying and true,

'Boys.'

Let us build the Palace of Life anew.

'Men.'

Let us build for the years we shall not see.

'Boys.'

Lofty of line and glorious of hue, With gold and pearl and with the cedar tree,

{215}.

'Men.'

With silence due And with service free,

'Boys.'

Let us build it for ever in splendour new.

'Men.'

Let us build in hope and in sorrow, and rest in Thee.

{216}.

'Epistle'

TO COLONEL FRANCIS EDWARD YOUNGHUSBAND.

Across the Western World, the Arabian Sea, The Hundred Kingdoms and the Rivers Three, Beyond the rampart of Himalayan snows, And up the road that only Rumour knows, Unchecked, old friend, from Devon to Thibet, Friendship and Memory dog your footsteps yet.

Let not the scornful ask me what avails So small a pack to follow mighty trails: Long since I saw what difference must be Between a stream like you, a ditch like me.

This drains a garden and a homely field Which scarce at times a living current yield; The other from the high lands of his birth Plunges through rocks and spurns the pastoral earth, Then settling silent to his deeper course Draws in his fellows to augment his force, Becomes a name, and broadening as he goes, Gives power and purity where'er he flows, Till, great enough for any commerce grown, He links all nations while he serves his own.

{217}.

Soldier, explorer, statesman, what in truth Have you in common with homekeeping youth?

"Youth" comes your answer like an echo faint; And youth it was that made us first acquaint.

Do you remember when the Downs were white With the March dust from highways glaring bright, How you and I, like yachts that toss the foam, From Penpole Fields came stride and stride for home?

One grimly leading, one intent to pa.s.s, Mile after mile we measured road and gra.s.s, Twin silent shadows, till the hour was done, The shadows parted and the stouter won.

Since then I know one thing beyond appeal-- How runs from stem to stern a trimbuilt keel.

Another day--but that's not mine to tell, The man in front does not observe so well; Though, spite of all these five-and-twenty years, As clear as life our schoolday scene appears.

The guarded course, the barriers and the rope; The runners, stripped of all but shivering hope; The starter's good grey head; the sudden hush; The stern white line; the half-unconscious rush; The deadly bend, the pivot of our fate; The rope again; the long green level straight; The lane of heads, the cheering half unheard; The dying spurt, the tape, the judge's word.