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Ultima Thule by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

SONNETS - My Cathedral

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SONNET: My Cathedral


Like two cathedral towers these stately pines
Uplift their fretted summits tipped with cones;
The arch beneath them is not built with stones,
Not Art but Nature traced these lovely lines,
And carved this graceful arabesque of vines;
No organ but the wind here sighs and moans,
No sepulchre conceals a martyr's bones.
No marble bishop on his tomb reclines.
Enter! the pavement, carpeted with leaves,
Gives back a softened echo to thy tread!
Listen! the choir is singing; all the birds,
In leafy galleries beneath the eaves,
Are singing! listen, ere the sound be fled,
And learn there may be worship with out words.


Content of SONNET: My Cathedral [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem collection: Ultima Thule]



Read next: SONNETS#The Burial of the Poet

Read previous: FOLK-SONGS#The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls

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