The Side Windows: Augustine

As when the sun hath climb'd a cloudy mass,
And looks at noon on some cathedral dim,
Each limb, each fold, in the translucent glass,
Breaks into hues of radiant Seraphim ;
So, sainted Bishop ! in the letter'd store
Which still enfolds thy spirit fled from sight,
Comment, Prayer, Homily, or learned lore,
Christ bathes each part with His transforming light
Late ris'n in thee. Thence all is eloquent
With flowing sweetness ; o'er each rising pause
Thou build'st in untir'd strength : through all is sent
The Word pleading for His most righteous laws.

For thy sick soul, by baptism's seal reliev'd,
Deep in her brackish founts the healing Cross receiv'd.