Poem by John Henry Newman

Behind the Veil

BANISH'D the House of sacred rest,
Amid a thoughtless throng,
At length I heard its creed confess'd,
And knelt the saints among.

Artless his strain and unadorn'd,
Who spoke Christ's message there;
But what at home I might have scorn'd,
Now charm'd my famish'd ear.

Lord, grant me this abiding grace,
Thy Word and sons to know;
To pierce the veil on Moses' face,
Although his speech be slow. 

1. Flowers without Fruit
2. Hymn to Lauds Sunday
3. Reverses
4. The Elements
5. Christmas without Christ

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