Philip's Death Cell in the Escorial

HERE Philip died. A dark, low-vaulted room,
With one cramped window, void of heaven or day,
Through which a vision swells of columns gray
Lifting a great gray dome; and in the gloom
Rise jasper altar-stairs. Above them loom
The stretched arms of the Cross, — Life, Truth, and Way
All centred there to him who, dying, lay
Here where I stand, — dying with Herod’s doom
Full fastened on him. And I seem to be
Alone with Philip’s presence, and to grow
Incorporate with the time and man; to see
With clearer eyes how hate to man may flow
From love to Christ outpoured mistakenly,
And ask, Shall such be crimson, or as snow ?
A. A. Adee.