Joseph Mary Plunkett

(21 November 1887 – 4 May 1916 / Dublin / Ireland)

The Living Temple - Poem by Joseph Mary Plunkett

O Covenant! O Temple! O trail pride
Of God’s high glory! Set your snowy feet
On the Red Mountain, while the pinions beat
Of proximate apocalypse. Uncried
Halloos of havoc, prophecies denied
Fulfilment till the Dawn of Wonder, fleet
In songs precursive down the glittering street
Where dripped the blood from wounded brows and side.

And you must walk the mountain tops where rode
Gabriel, Raphael, Michael, when the stars
Fell from their places, and where Satan strode
To make his leap. Now bend the cracking spars
Athwart the mast of the world—and five deep scars
From that strong Cross call you to their abode.

Comments about The Living Temple by Joseph Mary Plunkett

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Friday, May 25, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, May 25, 2012

[Report Error]