Explore "The Dead Church" by Charles Kingsley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Wild wild wind, wilt thou never cease thy sighing? / Dark dark night, wilt thou never wear away? / Cold cold church, in thy death sleep lying, / The Lent is past, thy Passion here, but not thine Easter-day.
Peace, faint heart, though the night be dark and sighing; / Rest, fair corpse, where thy Lord himself hath lain.
Weep, dear Lord, above thy bride low lying; / Thy tears shall wake her frozen limbs to life and health again.
Eversley, 1848.