THE SERMON OF A STATUE.[IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.]
Suddenly, in the melancholy place
With sculptured king and priest and knight assembled,
The music called us. Then, with kindly grace,
On a gold head was laid a hand that trembled:
"You little stranger, come," the verger cried,
"And hear the sermon." "No," the child replied;—
With sculptured king and priest and knight assembled,
The music called us. Then, with kindly grace,
On a gold head was laid a hand that trembled:
"You little stranger, come," the verger cried,
"And hear the sermon." "No," the child replied;—
A moment standing on his New-World will,
There in the Corner of the Poets, holding
His cap with pretty reverence, as still
As any of that company, he said, folding
His arms: "But let that canon wait." And then:
"I want to stay here with these marble men;—
There in the Corner of the Poets, holding
His cap with pretty reverence, as still
As any of that company, he said, folding
His arms: "But let that canon wait." And then:
"I want to stay here with these marble men;—
"If they could preach, I'd listen!" Ah, they can,
Another thought. It pleased the boy to linger
In the pale presence of the peerless man
Who pointed to his text with moveless finger.
Another thought. It pleased the boy to linger
In the pale presence of the peerless man
Who pointed to his text with moveless finger.
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