The North Transept: The Psalms III

By figure, rite, and storied mysteries,
The glorious light, in highest Heaven that dwells,
Tempers its image to man's feebler eyes,
Softly reflected in terrestrial wells.
While to each rising thought true Wisdom tells
Of purer heights — whate'er of good desire,
Of love, or thought serene the bosom swells,
There they on bodiless wings to Heaven aspire,
And gain, perchance, a gleam of that diviner fire.