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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506989" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Love's Worship Restored</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Love, thine empire is not dead,<br>Nor will we let thy worship go,<br>Although thine early flush be fled,<br>Thine ardent eyes more faintly glow,<br>And thy light wings be fallen slow<br>Since when as novices we came<br>Into the temple of thy name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not now with garlands in our hair,<br>And singing lips, we come to thee.<br>There is a coldness in the air,<br>A dulness on the encircling sea,<br>Which doth not well with songs agree.<br>And we forget the words we sang<br>When first to thee our voices rang.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When we recall that magic prime,<br>We needs must weep its early death.<br>How pleasant from thy towers the chime<br>Of bells, and sweet the incense breath<br>That rose while we, who kept thy faith,<br>Chanting our creed, and chanting bore<br>Our offerings to thine altar store!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now are our voices out of tune,<br>Our gifts unworthy of thy name.<br>December frowns, in place of June.<br>Who smiled when to thy house we came,<br>We who came leaping, now are lame.<br>Dull ears and failing eyes are ours,<br>And who shall lead us to thy towers?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O hark! A sound across the air,<br>Which tells not of December's cold,<br>A sound most musical and rare.<br>Thy bells are ringing as of old,<br>With silver throats and tongues of gold.<br>Alas! it is too sweet for truth,<br>An empty echo of our youth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nay, never echo spake so loud!<br>It is indeed thy bells that ring.<br>And lo, against the leaden cloud,<br>Thy towers! Once more we leap and spring,<br>Once more melodiously we sing,<br>We sing, and in our song forget<br>That winter lies around us yet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, what is winter, now we know,<br>Full surely, thou canst never fail?<br>Forgive our weak untrustful woe,<br>Which deemed thy glowing face grown pale.<br>We know thee, mighty to prevail.<br>Doubt and decrepitude depart,<br>And youth comes back into the heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Love, who turnest frost to flame<br>With ardent and immortal eyes,<br>Whose spirit sorrow cannot tame,<br>Nor time subdue in any wise -<br>While sun and moon for us shall rise,<br>Oh, may we in thy service keep<br>Till in thy faith we fall asleep!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Fuller+Murray">Robert Fuller Murray</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506989" data-title="Love's Worship Restored de Robert Fuller Murray" data-description="O Love, thine empire is not dead, Nor will we let thy worship go, Although thine early flush be fled, Thine ardent eyes more faintly glow, And thy light wings be fallen slow Since when as novices we came Into the temple of thy name. Not now with ..."></div> </div> </div>
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