While The Billy BoilsSearchSojourner of the peaks divineNo gusts of human folly sweep,Fenced from the shadow and the shineThat dapple Life’s disastrous deep!Hushed is the world-heart’s stormy beat,Earth’s clanging discords faint and failIn holy silence round thy feet,O Sister of the sombre veil!
To steadfast eyes undimmed of tears,And lips that have no boon to craveFrom largess of the laughing yearsThat flit like shadows to the grave,Rise there no ghosts of “Used to be”To mock the quest of Holy GrailBy guarded glance and suppliant knee?O Sister of the sombre veil!
Noon glooms to dusk — the desert daysSlip slow by prayer-enchanted leas —Pale pilots of the parted ways,Wan warders of the Silent Keys!In catacombs of twilit years,What fear-forms frighted Passion pale?Or Jesus’ cross or Mary’s tears?O Sister of the sombre veil!
O Woman, is thy smile a mask?Life cries for more than bread to eat;“The daily round, the common task,”Are these beatitude complete?If faith be first I stand aghastIn outer dark beyond the paleOf thine, the first faith and the last —O Sister of the sombre veil!