No doubt to-morrow I will hide
My face from you, my King.
Let me rejoice this Sunday noon,
And kneel while gray priests sing.
It is not wisdom to forget.
But since it is my fate
Fill thou my soul with hidden wine
To make this white hour great.
My God, my God, this marvelous hour
I am your son I know.
Once in a thousand days your voice
Has laid temptation low.
At Mass
Vachel Lindsay
(1)
Poem topics: fate, son, wisdom, hidden, voice, soul, white, king, great, face, doubt, rejoice, forget, hide, sunday, marvelous, god, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about At Mass poem by Vachel Lindsay
Best Poems of Vachel Lindsay