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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=416366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Recusant</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=416366" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">THE CHURCH stands there beyond the orchard-blooms:<br>How yearningly I gaze upon its spire!<br>Lifted mysterious through the twilight glooms,<br>Dissolving in the sunset’s golden fire,<br>Or dim as slender incense morn by morn<br>Ascending to the blue and open sky.<br>For ever when my heart feels most forlorn<br>It murmurs to me with a weary sigh,<br>How sweet to enter in, to kneel and pray<br>With all the others whom we love so well!<br>All disbelief and, doubt might pass away,<br>All peace float to us with its Sabbath bell.<br>Conscience replies, There is but one good rest,<br>Whose head is pillowed upon Truth’s pure breast.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Thomson">James Thomson</a></strong></div>

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