that square & speckled stone

Notre Dame is on fire and I'm depressed about it; I really love that cathedral. I was sadly texting with K about it, and she requested this poem, and, well, yeah. Nobody does church architecture like Herbert does, and he still makes me cry sometimes. 

Mark you the floore? that square & speckled stone,

                         Which looks so firm and strong,

                                             Is Patience:

And th' other black and grave, wherewith each one

                         Is checker'd all along,

                                             Humilitie:

The gentle rising, which on either hand

                         Leads to the Quire above,

                                             Is Confidence:

But the sweet cement, which in one sure band

                         Ties the whole frame, is Love

                                             And Charitie.

     Hither sometimes Sinne steals, and stains 

     The marbles neat and curious veins: 

But all is cleansed when the marble weeps. 

     Sometimes Death, puffing at the doore, 

     Blows all the dust about the floore: 

But while he thinks to spoil the room, he sweeps. 

     Blest be the Architect, whose art 

     Could build so strong in a weak heart. 

—George Herbert (1593-1633), "The Church-floore" from The Temple, 1633, and in this case from the excellent Helen Wilcox edition (Cambridge University Press, 2007). 

For Herbert, the church is always a heart (and the heart, a church).