Katharine Lee Bates - The Funeral of Phillips Brooks II lyrics

Within the beauteous walls again too strait For the wistful flocks who mourn their shepherd gone,-- Since here all creeds one shining garment don, One seamless robe,--our heavy spirits wait On the old Hebraic anthem pa**ionate And fall of hallowed words that bear upon Their cadences strange consolation won From centuries of faith reverberate. But oh, the empty pulpit eloquent Of d**h, the sable pulpit over all! Yet even here is soul with flesh at strife; For wise and tender was the hand that lent A glowing wreath to that funereal pall,-- Against the gloom the exultant flush of life.