The Poetry Corner

Alleluia Height

By Michael Earls

Obedience to the seasons' marshall-rod, That is a law of God, Here beauty passes with her gorgeous train, On paths that range from bud to grain. O, here the searching eyes In traffic for the soul's good gain Earn wealth of rare delight. Far pathways of surprise, In color's frumenty bedight, Lead off from avenues of day Through miles of pageantries: And from the starry chancels of the night And the inscrutable farther skies, Beyond where trackless comets stray, Outspreads a world in thought's array. And lo! the heart's true voices sing From the exulting reverent breast, And lips proclaim, with adoration blessed, Glad Alleluias to the King. Prompt is our praise unto a jewelled queen In all her courtly splendor set, (Fair as those fairylands are seen By childhood's other sight): But if in pauper mien, Too poor for stray regret Where crowded streets affright She stood in beggary, Unknown, though faithful to her high degree,-- O, then her praise 'twere easy to forget. Yet ever here, For all of time's prompt fickleness- From plenteous June and wide largess Of full midsummer days, To dwarf December pitiless Amid the earth's uncomplimented ways-