Practising The Anthem

A summer wind blows through the open porch,

And, ‘neath the rustling eaves,

A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,

Shines through a vale of leaves.

The soft gusts bring a scent of summer flowers,

Fresh with the falling dew,

And round the doorway, glimmering white as snow,

The tender petals strew.

Clear through the silence, from a reedy pool

The curlew’s whistle thrills;

A lonely mopoke sorrowfully cries

From the far-folding hills.

O lovely night, and yet so sad and strange!

My fingers touch the key;

And down the empty church my Christmas song

Goes ringing, glad and free.

Each sweet note knocks at dreaming memory’s door,

And memory wakes in pain;

The spectral faces she had turn’d away

Come crowding in again.

The air seems full of music all around-

I know not what I hear,

The multitudinous echoes of the past,

Or these few voices near.

Ah me! the dim aisle vaguely widens out,

I see me stand therein;

A glory of grey sculpture takes the light

A winter morn brings in.

No more I smell the fragrant jessamine flowers

That flake a moonlit floor;

The rustling night-breeze and the open porch

I hear and see no more.

Great solemn windows, down a long, long nave

Their shadow’d rainbows fling;

Dark Purbeck shafts, with hoary capitals,

In carven archways spring.

And overhead the throbbing organ waves

Roll in one mighty sea,

Bearing the song the herald angels sang

Of Christ’s nativity.

Dear hands touch mine beneath the open book,

Sweet eyes look in my face,-

They smile, they melt in darkness; I am snatch’d

From my familiar place.

The summer night-wind blows upon my tears;

Its flowery scent is pain.

O cold, white day! O noble minster-when

May I come back again!

To hear the angels’ anthem shake the air,

Where never discord jars,-

The Christmas carols in the windy street,

Under the frosty stars;

The dream-like falling from the still, grey skies,

With falling flakes of snow,

Of mellow chimes from old cathedral bells,

Solemn and sweet and slow.

To hear loved footsteps beating time with mine

Along the churchyard path,-

To see that ring of faces once again

Drawn round the blazing hearth.

When may I come? O Lord, when may I go?

Nay, I must wait Thy will.

Give patience, Lord, and in Thine own best way

My hopes and prayers fulfil.

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Poems in English 

• The Gardener XIX: You Walked by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener XIV: I Was Walking by the Road by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener XIII: I Asked Nothing by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener X: Let Your Work Be, Bride by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXXIV: Over the Green by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXXIII: She Dwelt on the Hillside by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXXI: Why Do You Whisper So Faintly by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXVI: The Fair Was On by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXV: At Midnight by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXVIII: None Lives For Ever, Brother by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXIX: I Hunt for the Golden Stag by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXIV: I Spent My Day by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LV: It Was Mid-Day by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LIX: O Woman by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LI: Then Finish the Last Song by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener IX: When I Go Alone at Night by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener IV: Ah Me by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Further Bank by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Flower-School by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The First Jasmines by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore

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