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