Poems (Jackson)/Showbread

by Helen Hunt Jackson

SHOWBREAD.

AST imaged pillars, wrought of fir and palm,Past bright pomegranates, swinging on their chain,And bars of Tyrian cedar, overlainWith gold, and past the molten sea whose calmWaves drink the offerings of spice and balm,Lit by the seven sacred lamps whose rainOf fragrant fire the almond bowls detain,Past clear-eyed cherubim, without alarm,And into shadow of the mercy-seatWe pressed.We pressed.No priest with onyx-stones to meetUs there! Alone our hunger, face to faceWith God, ate of the showbread, sacred, sweet;And listening, heard these words of heavenly grace,—"One greater than the temple fills this place."

TIDES.

PATIENT shore, that canst not go to meetThy love, the restless sea, how comfortestThou all thy loneliness? Art thou at rest,When loosing his strong arms from round thy feet,