The blast sweeps round the chapel from behind,
Making the altar-light flare fitfully,
While I must kneel and pray with troubled mind.
Patrick and Brigid, I have prayed to ye!
The night is over, and my task resigned
To Colum. Though God's own dwelling shelter me,
Cold is the wind.
The Narrow Doors. [Fannie Stearns Davis]
The Wide Door into Sorrow
Stands open night and day.
With head held high and dancing feet
I pass it on my way.
I never tread within it,
I never turn to see
The Wide Door into Sorrow.
It cannot frighten me.
The Narrow Doors to Sorrow
Are secret, still, and low:
Swift tongues of dusk that spoil the sun
Before I even know.
My dancing feet are frozen.
I stare. I can but see.
The Narrow Doors to Sorrow
They stop the heart in me.
— Oh, stranger than my midnights
Of loneliness and strife
The Doors that let the dark leap in
Across my sunny life!
"I Pass a Lighted Window". [Clement Wood]
I pass a lighted window
And a closed door —
And I am not troubled
Any more.