The Muse in Church
And with thy white knees showing,
And shy, soft eyes that faker—
Go hence, enticing demon child,
Thou hast not beads nor psalter.
THE RETURN
Back to the voice that sang me,
Back to the breath of birth;
Back to the bells that rang me
Front heavenly heights to earth;
Back to the hand that wrought me;
Back to the primal sod;
Back to the mind that thought me—
Home to the breast of God.
[175]
