The Cross Upon The Path

Oh, you may not pass, you, upon the path-
You may not pass!
Oh, by the green fields you may stray,
Or by the purling waters,
Or by the valley's way;
Oh, you may seek within the shadowed eve,
When the primrose looses its purse of gold,
Blowing its pence upon the stars;
Or you may seek when Ladye Night
Girdles her raiment with a starlit circlet,
And pins the pearly moon upon her brow;
Or you may wait until the morning
Is young like a nestling, downy,
Making small sounds; yet you may not pass!
Oh, you may follow the agonies of conflict,
Making yourself a part of its confusion.
Oh, you may become a leader of men,
Raising your blade on high, and challenging;
Yet, I say, you may not pass!
You may contrive to make your way freely,
Yet I say-you may not pass!
For the pathway unto that land
Which is the Father's, is gated with a Cross!
Aye, and you may not pass save that your pathway
Leads forth fearlessly unto it.
Yea, like the rocks of the mountains,
Whose lips are closed over the ages-
So stands the Cross!