The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . he secondcentury after Christ. Personally, I donot know enough about it to offer anopinion. The vexed question of thewalls—on which the whole controversyrests-—can only be settled by great sight at Easter was thepnople—people from every land under It \^as a crowd that made an Iba anor a Vienna German seem Uke abrother. But the great pilgrim na-tion is the Russian; and they weremore obvious than any of the others,though their Easter wa-s more than amonth off. They are gray, calm, pa-tient and


The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . he secondcentury after Christ. Personally, I donot know enough about it to offer anopinion. The vexed question of thewalls—on which the whole controversyrests-—can only be settled by great sight at Easter was thepnople—people from every land under It \^as a crowd that made an Iba anor a Vienna German seem Uke abrother. But the great pilgrim na-tion is the Russian; and they weremore obvious than any of the others,though their Easter wa-s more than amonth off. They are gray, calm, pa-tient and pious; and theh priests withtheir long curling hair and their cylin-drical black hats and their benevolentbearded faces, alwayis arouse thestJong interest of tlie West-emer. Tothe ^Moslem of Jerusalem, the Greekchurch must seem easily the firstamong Christians, the Armenians andthe Ijatins close competitom for secondplace, the Copts third—and the Pro-testants hardly worth the great Gennan liuildings go-ing up there are German Catholic. 516 THE CANADIAN MAGAZINE. -y^- Twas at the city gate we met; A blazing sun had flung On flashing spire and minaret Banners of blood that hung, Like brazen streamers in the wind That whipped a flaming sea, And drooped not there, nor fell behind, But stretched from you to me. The streets a million footfalls held : Yet only one I knew. The burdened heat of voices swelled : I heard the cry of you. And, lo, the heavy, waiting years Fell from me, as you came, And all the bitterness and tears Were shadows in a dream. The city sounds throbbed faint, remote. Like plaintive echoes thrill, The dim call of a birds lone note Came from a silent hill. Then, braggart monster, Truth stalked near,As when night clouds the dayWith veiled scoff at hearts that scourged our love light of God was not uponThe earth or mocking you went back to Babylon,I—to Gethsemane. •^i^ fr- y^ ^ I j\- ^K L. INSIDE THE ENVE


Size: 2062px × 1212px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectcanadia, bookyear1893