In the Morning

by Willis Boyd Allen

CHAMOUNIX.

Within Thy holy temple have I strayed

E’en as a weary child, who from the heat

And noonday glare hath timid refuge sought

In some cathedral’s vast and shadowy aisle,

And trembling, awestruck, croucheth in his rags

Where high upreared a mighty pillar stands.

Mine eyes I lift unto the hills, from whence