The chapel looms against the sky,
Above the vine-clad shelves,
And as the peasants pass it by
They cross themselves.
But I alone, I grieve to state,
Lack sentiment divine:
A citified sophisticate,
I make no sign.
Their gesture may a habit be,
Mechanic in a sense,
Yet somehow it awakes in me
Strange reverence.
And though from ignorance it stem,
Somehow I deeply grieve,
And wish down in my heart like them
I could believe.
Suppose a cottage I should buy,
And little patch of vine,
With pure and humble spirit I
Might make the Sign.
Aye, though I godless way I go,
And sceptic in my trend,
A faith in something I don’t know
Might save me in the end.
(Robert William Service)
More Poetry from Robert William Service:
Robert William Service Poems based on Topics: Sadness, Sense & Perception, Belief & Faith, Sign & Symbol, Habit- Fighting Mac (Robert William Service Poems)
- If You Had The Choice Of Two Women To Wed (Robert William Service Poems)
- (The sunshine seeks my little room) (Robert William Service Poems)
- My Bay'nit (Robert William Service Poems)
- The Summing Up (Robert William Service Poems)
- The Return (Robert William Service Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Belief & Faith Poems, Sign & Symbol Poems, Habit PoemsBased on Keywords: godless, mechanic, trend, sceptic, vine-clad, sophisticate, citified