Originally published at The Catholic Thing
See, how the sombre cassocks come and go,
About the sunny garden, in and out!
God reigns in highest heaven – while here below
We grope and rout;
And, like our foolish fathers down the ages,
Look for divinity in printed pages.
“Look at that priest, how slow he walks, how slow!
You would not think he ran a race with Death;
Why does he loiter here? Rise, rise and go,
Draw swifter breath!
Go! let your pulses leap with love and laughter;
Live now! and let God settle what comes after!
“Mark that man – how he moves with nervous speed;
His blood is beating hot in heart and brain
Ah, cast away that cold and cruel creed!
Go back again
Tear off that black; and leap and ride and run,
And live like Adam in the wind and sun!
“What, does God love to see his creatures pine,
Crouching and cringing – weaklings half-afraid?
God, who has made the oil, the wheat, the vine,
Bright sun, cool shade,
God, who has fashioned youth, clean limbs, red blood.
What, said He not that all is very good?”
So spoke the Devil in me, as I sat
To watch the brethren passing to and fro.
So he had whispered, till I fancied that
Myself said so
That it was I that chafed and longed to flee
And taste, with
