THE ARK OF THE COVENANT
105
Wrapt in still thought, with sad and mournful mien,
Plying his axe with oft a troubled sigh,
He dreamed of glory which the House had seen
In days gone by;
Mused of the time when in the Holy Place
God's Presence dwelt between the Cherubim,
And of the day He turned away His face,
And light grew dim;
When the Shechinah from that erring throng,
Alas, withdrew, yet tarried in the track,
As one who lingereth on the threshold long
And looketh back;
Then step by step in that reluctant flight
Approached the shadow of the city wall,
And lingered yet upen the mountain height
For hoped recall.
