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Poetry

Kipple

Chartres Cathedral

Chartres Windows
1925
COLOUR fulfils where Music has no power:

By each man’s light the unjudging glass betrays

All men’s surrender, each man’s holiest hour

And all the lit confusion of our days-

Purfled with iron, traced in dusk and fire,

Challenging ordered Time who, at the last,

Shall bring it, grozed and leaded and wedged fast,

To the cold stone that curbs or crowns desire.

Yet on the pavement that all feet have trod-

Even as the Spirit, in her deeps and heights,

Turns only, and that voiceless, to her God-

There falls no tincture from those anguished lights. A

nd Heaven’s one light, behind them, striking through

Blazons what each man dreamed no other knew.

Rudyard Kipling