The Temple of the Great Out-Doors
Lo! I am the builder of a temple!
Even I, who groped so long for God
And laughed the broken laugh to find the darkness empty,
I am the builder of a temple!
The toiling shoulders of my dream heaved up the arch
And set the pillars of the Dawn.
The burning pillars of the Evening and the Dawn,
Under the star-sprent, sun-shot, moon-enchanted dome of blue!
And I, who knew no God,
Stood straight, unhumbled in my temple:
I did not fear the Mystery of the Darkness,
And I was only glad to feel the rush of sunlight in my blood!
I did not bend the knee.
I was unafraid, unashamed, careless and defiant.
I stood as in the centre of the universe and laughed!
And in my temple there were songs and organ tones,
And there was a silent Something holier than prayer.
I heard the winds and the streams and the sounds of many birds:
I heard the shouting of storms and the moaning of snows;
I heard my heart, and it was lifted up in song.
The Wind passing in a gust was as though an organ had been stricken by the hands of a capricious Master!
There was movement in the air, motion in the leaves, a stirring in the grass,
Even as of the reverent moving about of a congregation.
Yet I stood alone in my temple; I stood alone and was not afraid.
But once a Something glided into my temple
And I became afraid!
As the Moon-Woman of the Greeks the Something seemed,
Lithe and swift and pale,
A fitting human sheath for the keen chaste spirit of a sword!
And then it seemed my temple was too small.
The Presence filled it to the furthest nook!
There was no lonesomeness in any cranny!
I knelt — and was afraid!
I felt the Presence in the winds;
I heard it in the streams;
I saw it in the restless changing of the clouds!
I tried to be as I had been, unbending, not afraid — godless.
Subtle as the scent of the unseen swinging censer of the wild flowers
That Presence crept upon me!
I fled from the terrible sunlight that burned the dome of my temple!
Childlike I hid my head in the darkness!
But I am not alone.
Where I have laughed defiantly into the blind emptiness,
Something moves!
I have placed my irreverent hand upon a Something in the shadow!
I tremble lest the Thing shall illumine itself as the dawn;
I tremble lest at last I must see God —
See God and laugh no more.
Even I, who groped so long for God
And laughed the broken laugh to find the darkness empty,
I am the builder of a temple!
The toiling shoulders of my dream heaved up the arch
And set the pillars of the Dawn.
The burning pillars of the Evening and the Dawn,
Under the star-sprent, sun-shot, moon-enchanted dome of blue!
And I, who knew no God,
Stood straight, unhumbled in my temple:
I did not fear the Mystery of the Darkness,
And I was only glad to feel the rush of sunlight in my blood!
I did not bend the knee.
I was unafraid, unashamed, careless and defiant.
I stood as in the centre of the universe and laughed!
And in my temple there were songs and organ tones,
And there was a silent Something holier than prayer.
I heard the winds and the streams and the sounds of many birds:
I heard the shouting of storms and the moaning of snows;
I heard my heart, and it was lifted up in song.
The Wind passing in a gust was as though an organ had been stricken by the hands of a capricious Master!
There was movement in the air, motion in the leaves, a stirring in the grass,
Even as of the reverent moving about of a congregation.
Yet I stood alone in my temple; I stood alone and was not afraid.
But once a Something glided into my temple
And I became afraid!
As the Moon-Woman of the Greeks the Something seemed,
Lithe and swift and pale,
A fitting human sheath for the keen chaste spirit of a sword!
And then it seemed my temple was too small.
The Presence filled it to the furthest nook!
There was no lonesomeness in any cranny!
I knelt — and was afraid!
I felt the Presence in the winds;
I heard it in the streams;
I saw it in the restless changing of the clouds!
I tried to be as I had been, unbending, not afraid — godless.
Subtle as the scent of the unseen swinging censer of the wild flowers
That Presence crept upon me!
I fled from the terrible sunlight that burned the dome of my temple!
Childlike I hid my head in the darkness!
But I am not alone.
Where I have laughed defiantly into the blind emptiness,
Something moves!
I have placed my irreverent hand upon a Something in the shadow!
I tremble lest the Thing shall illumine itself as the dawn;
I tremble lest at last I must see God —
See God and laugh no more.
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