No doubt to-morrow I will hide
My face from you, my King.
Let me rejoice this Sunday noon,
And kneel while gray priests sing.

It is not wisdom to forget.
But since it is my fate
Fill thou my soul with hidden wine
To make this white hour great.

My God, my God, this marvelous hour
I am your son I know.
Once in a thousand days your voice
Has laid temptation low.

1 Comment

  1. Greg Nelson says:

    This poem shows that faith isn’t simple or one-dimensional, but ebbs and flows in the darkness and complexity of this often less-than-divine world. The faith expressed and explored here is human and real. And the poem is artful in its music and economy of language. Vachel Lindsay is a wonderful poet who’s too often overlooked.

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