Shayari Bazar

A Cathedral Façade at MidnightAlong the sculptures of the western wallI watched the moonlight creeping:It moved as if it hardly moved at allInch by inch thinly peepingRound on the pious figures of freestone, broughtAnd poised there when the Universe was wroughtTo serve its centre, Earth, in mankind’s thought.The lunar look skimmed scantly toe, breast, arm,Then edged on slowly, slightly,To shoulder, hand, face; till each austere formWas blanched its whole length brightlyOf prophet, king, queen, cardinal in state,That dead men’s tools had striven to simulate;And the stiff images stood irradiate.A frail moan from the martyred saints there setMid others of the erectionAgainst the breeze, seemed sighings of regretAt the ancient faith’s rejectionUnder the sure, unhasting, steady stressOf Reason’s movement, making meaningless.