Beauty

What is it, but the point where meet
The finite and the infinite?
The light on childhood’s brow that hovers,—
The all-revealing glance of lovers;
The troth of flowers and stars on high,—
The bridal of the earth and sky;
The sheen of heaven on soul and sod,—
The glory and the grace of God;—
The gleam of Sun beyond the sun,—
The mortal and immortal, one!