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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=409663" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tales Of A Wayside Inn : The Theologian's Tale; The Legend Beautiful</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hads't thou stayed, I must have fled!'<br>That is what the Vision said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In his chamber all alone,<br>Kneeling on the floor of stone,<br>Prayed the Monk in deep contrition<br>For his sins of indecision,<br>Prayed for greater self-denial<br>In temptation and in trial;<br>It was noonday by the dial,<br>And the Monk was all alone.<br>Suddenly, as if it lightened,<br>An unwonted splendor brightened<br>All within him and without him<br>In that narrow cell of stone;<br>And he saw the Blessed Vision<br>Of our Lord, with light Elysian<br>Like a vesture wrapped about him,<br>Like a garment round him thrown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not as crucified and slain,<br>Not in agonies of pain,<br>Not with bleeding hands and feet,<br>Did the Monk his Master see;<br>But as in the village street,<br>In the house or harvest-field,<br>Halt and lame and blind he healed,<br>When he walked in Galilee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In an attitude imploring,<br>Hands upon his bosom crossed,<br>Wondering, worshipping, adoring,<br>Knelt the Monk in rapture lost.<br>Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest,<br>Who am I, that thus thou deignest<br>To reveal thyself to me?<br>Who am I, that from the centre<br>Of thy glory thou shouldst enter<br>This poor cell, my guest to be?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then amid his exaltation,<br>Loud the convent bell appalling,<br>From its belfry calling, calling,<br>Rang through court and corridor<br>With persistent iteration<br>He had never heard before.<br>It was now the appointed hour<br>When alike in shine or shower,<br>Winter's cold or summer's heat,<br>To the convent portals came<br>All the blind and halt and lame,<br>All the beggars of the street,<br>For their daily dole of food<br>Dealt them by the brotherhood;<br>And their almoner was he<br>Who upon his bended knee,<br>Rapt in silent ecstasy<br>Of divinest self-surrender,<br>Saw the Vision and the Splendor.<br>Deep distress and hesitation<br>Mingled with his adoration;_<br>Should he go, or should he stay?<br>Should he leave the poor to wait<br>Hungry at the convent gate,<br>Till the Vision passed away?<br>Should he slight his radiant guest,<br>Slight this visitant celestial,<br>For a crowd of ragged, bestial<br>Beggars at the convent gate?<br>Would the Vision there remain?<br>Would the Vision come again?<br>Then a voice within his breast<br>Whispered, audible and clear<br>As if to the outward ear:<br>'Do thy duty; that is best;<br>Leave unto thy Lord the rest!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Straightway to his feet he started,<br>And with longing look intent<br>On the Blessed Vision bent,<br>Slowly from his cell departed,<br>Slowly on his errand went.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the gate the poor were waiting,<br>Looking through the iron grating,_<br>With that terror in the eye<br>That is only seen in those<br>Who amid their wants and woes<br>Hear the sound of doors that close,<br>And of feet that pass them by;<br>Grown familiar with disfavor,<br>Grown familiar with the savor<br>Of the bread by which men die!<br>But to-day, they knew not why,<br>Like the gate of Paradise<br>Seemed the convent sate to rise,<br>Like a sacrament divine<br>Seemed to them the bread and wine.<br>In his heart the Monk was praying,<br>Thinking of the homeless poor,<br>What they suffer and endure;<br>What we see not, what we see;<br>And the inward voice was saying:<br>'Whatsoever thing thou doest<br>To the least of mine and lowest,<br>That thou doest unto me!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unto me! but had the Vision<br>Come to him in beggar's clothing,<br>Come a mendicant imploring,<br>Would he then have knelt adoring,<br>Or have listened with derision,<br>And have turned away with loathing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus his conscience put the question,<br>Full of troublesome suggestion,<br>As at length, with hurried pace,<br>Towards his cell he turned his face,<br>And beheld the convent bright<br>With a supernatural light,<br>Like a luminous cloud expanding<br>Over floor and wall and ceiling.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But he paused with awe-struck feeling<br>At the threshold of his door,<br>For the Vision still was standing<br>As he left it there before,<br>When the convent bell appalling,<br>From its belfry calling, calling,<br>Summoned him to feed the poor.<br>Through the long hour intervening<br>It had waited his return,<br>And he felt his bosom burn,<br>Comprehending all the meaning,<br>When the Blessed Vision said,<br>'Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a><div class=q>
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That is what the Vision said.

In his chamber all alone,
Kneeling on the floor of stone,
Prayed the Monk in deep contrition
For his sins of indecision,
Prayed for greater self-denial
In temptation and in tri..."></div>
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