The lion at your side,
Like you, cadaverous master,
Stares up at the dark sky
And waits this world’s disaster.
With never a pause you pray
And with creation groan,
Striking at your hard heart
To break it with a stone.
Did you find holiness
Inside the cave you keep,
And does the Spirit guard
Your dreams from sin in sleep?
Rome with her pride and games,
Her vast dominion’s sphere—
Was this a world well lost?
Are there no devils here?
When these their watches keep
Beside you, and you fly
In spirit and in word
Up to the throne on high,
Do you yet sense the chain
Of accidie and lust
Pulling your old flesh toward
The inescapable dust?
Or in this desert place
Have you found that release
For which all spirits long,
The root of lasting peace?
