The Gospel Of Dread Tidings Poem by Emily Pfeiffer

IF that sad creed which honest men and true
Are flouting in the cheerful face of Day,
Are teaching in the schools, and by the way,—
Tho' only guesses on a broken clue,—
If such should in the end quench all the blue
Above us, then the saddest souls were they
Who knew and loved the most, and could not lay
The ghost of Hope, and hold the grave in lieu.

O Christ, Thou highest man! if it were so,
And Thou couldst see it, that great heart of Thine
Would burn to come amongst us,—not to preach
Thy law again, or set our loves a-glow,
Still less in glory,—but to blot each line,
Each thought, each word, Thou camest first to teach.