St. Johns, Cambridge

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade
        Thy western window, Chapel of St. John!
        And hear its leaves repeat their benison
        On him, whose hand if thy stones memorial laid;
    Then I remember one of whom was said
        In the world's darkest hour, "Behold thy son!"
        And see him living still, and wandering on
        And waiting for the advent long delayed.
    Not only tongues of the apostles teach
        Lessons of love and light, but these expanding
        And sheltering boughs with all their leaves implore,
    And say in language clear as human speech,
        "The peace of God, that passeth understanding,
        Be and abide with you forevermore!"