The hush of holiness entombed within
this dome where pageantry and faith have wed.
This cup of blood, atonement shed for sin;
the candles burn remembrance for the dead.
A thousand years of saints' and sinners' prayers
rise up upon the incense of the Mass,
yet linger on the stillness of the air
reflected in the story-stainéd glass.
The crucifix, the crux of faith and art
like wings of cherubim, o'er altar spans.
The worshippers form crosses on their hearts
and Levi's collared heirs conduct the chants.
Venite Adoremus, it is said,
Come venerate the Lord with holy dread.
