In the British Museum
“What do you see in that time-touched stone,When nothing is thereBut ashen blankness, although you give itA rigid stare?
“You look not quite as if you saw,But as if you heard,Parting your lips, and treading softlyAs mouse or bird.
“It is only the base of a pillar, they’ll tell you,That came to usFrom a far old hill men used to nameAreopagus.”
—“I know no art, and I only viewA stone from a wall,But I am thinking that stone has echoedThe voice of Paul,
“Paul as he stood and preached beside itFacing the crowd,A small gaunt figure with wasted features,Calling out loud
“Words that in all their intimate accentsPattered uponThat marble front, and were far reflected,And then were gone.
“I’m a labouring man, and know but little,Or nothing at all;But I can’t help thinking that stone once echoedThe voice of Paul.”
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