Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.
Why Are They Shut?
By Horace Smith (17791849)
W
Bolted and barred against our bosom’s yearning,
Save for the few short hours of sabbath prayer,
With the bell’s tolling statedly returning?
Why are they shut?
Or sick of dissipation’s dull vagaries,
We wish to snatch one little space for thought,
Or holy respite in our sanctuaries,
Why are they shut?
Give tacit notice from its fastened portals,
That for six days ’t is useless to adore,
Since God will hold no communings with mortals?
Why are they shut?
Who wish to sanctify a vowed repentance?
Are there no hearts bereft which fain would seek
The only balm for Death’s unpitying sentence?
Why are they shut?
No sick, who, when their strength or courage falters,
Long for a moment’s respite or relief,
By kneeling at the God of mercy’s altars?
Why are they shut?
Some qualm of conscience or devout suggestion
Might suddenly redeem from future sin?
O, if there be, how solemn is the question,
Why are they shut?
To breathe a passing prayer in their cathedrals:
There they have week-day shrines, and no one asks,
When he would kneel to them and count his bead-rolls,
Why are they shut?
To quit those cheering fanes with looks of gladness,—
How often have my thoughts to ours reverted!
How oft have I exclaimed in tones of sadness,
Why are they shut?
Wrapt in its week-day stillness and vacation,
Nor feel that in the very air his soul
Receives a sweet and hallowing lustration?
Why are they shut?
All in a deep sepulchral silence shrouded,
An awe more solemn and intense inspire,
Than when with sabbath congregations crowded.
Why are they shut?
On hollow graves, are spiritual voices;
And holding mental converse with the dead,
In holy reveries our soul rejoices.
Why are they shut?
This sanctifying week-day adoration,
Were but our churches open to his prayer,
Why—I demand with earnest iteration—
Why are they shut?