ABSTRACT
fourteenth century So vast a gloom in the vast Cathedral As night falls, the December night. Slowly, inevitably, it unbuilds The Cathedral. Already the vaulted roof Has gone, the leaning Angel with her trumpet Of triumphant gold. Carvings on capitals Sink back into the crude stone. Broken columns rise from shadow Into shadow. Night covers The stretched and bloodless windows with a pall Of dusk. One flame, trembling At the end of the long riding, bums Like a cottager’s lamp between shafts of trees. For the shadows are a wood’s shadows, when clouds Have curtained the moon…. High in the gloom a bell rings, Gabriel, the storm-bell—so clear Through the thick of night, the note shivers In that great room, as if the darkness knew The threatened music of the bells would sound Its doom. Another, another joins it: Margaret, high and sweet, like morning, Like a morning in May. Now from the shadows Figures loom, bearing the light And smell of tapers. One by one, At the high altar, shine wavering Stars, and round the Martyr’s tomb. James,John and Michael add To the bells’ clamour. Columns return With their smooth Purbeck stems, with opening Leaf and flower, while candles bloom At fifteen altars. The procession foarms. Then Peter, in his tower, booms out His message to the world, and all the bells With a last thunderous clapping proclaim The death of Night. The procession moves. And the choir, the golden Angel in the roof— Ave, rex gentis Anglorum— Take up the luminous theme of light.
