In York Minster
You've gone ahead without me,
For I would not hold you back
Climbing high to see the view
With stamina, which I lack.
And so now I sit alone
Enclosed by the stone and sound
Of echoed voices buzzing
And a hundred coughing's drone.
I marvel at the detail
Cast by now still hands
That toiled in glass and lead and rock
And made this sanct'ry grand.
I contemplate the feet
That trod this weary stone
And contemplate the followers
Who will come when we've gone Home.
To the Glory of the Father,
To the Glory of the Son
To the Glory of the hands of those -
This miracle, they spun.
And though I wait you quietly
I do not in tedium pass
The time you spend to scan the sky
And wish the 'I' was 'us'.
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