THE THRESHOLD
I threaded endless aisles
Of level trees, of spare,
Undeviating wood;
I penetrated streets
Of houses parallel;
I crossed a common where
My day paused sentinel;
At evenfall I stood
Before the dim defiles
Of dusk, where light retreats,
Immured in sombre ward.
The sheathed sun went down;
Opaque was heaven's frown;
Mountains, looming grey,
Framed the threshold—yea—
The portal to the Lord.
Of level trees, of spare,
Undeviating wood;
I penetrated streets
Of houses parallel;
I crossed a common where
My day paused sentinel;
At evenfall I stood
Before the dim defiles
Of dusk, where light retreats,
Immured in sombre ward.
The sheathed sun went down;
Opaque was heaven's frown;
Mountains, looming grey,
Framed the threshold—yea—
The portal to the Lord.
[101]
