. . .between the pillars white— Wide pinions of unvisioned things? 23 The priests who watched the relics heard Wing-whispers—not of bat or bird— And moan of inarticulate word. Then sunlight, morning, and sweet air Adorned our church, and there were borne Great sheaves of boughs of blossoms fair To grace the consecration morn. Then round our church trooped knight and dame; Within, alone, the bishop came, And the twelve candles leaped to flame. Then round our church the bishop went With all his priests—a brave array. There was no sign nor portent sent As, glad at heart, he went his way, Sprinkling the holy water round Three times on walls and crowd and ground Within the churchyard's sacred bound. Then—but ye know the function's scope At consecration—all the show Of torch and incense, stole and cope; And how the acolytes do go 24 Before the bishop—how they bear The lighted tapers, flaming fair, Blown back by th. . . Read More