The North Transept: The Psalms XX

And find Thee not. Then in that sacred chord
We hear from unseen heights a glorious song,
Of panoplies divine and shield and sword,—
Faith in unearthly armour bold and strong,
And strains which to Thy ransom'd host belong.
Then, where from high the showering sunbeams fall
Amid th' encircling mists of grief and wrong,
Is seen to rise th' Eternal City's wall,
While Earth responds to Heaven, and deep to deep doth call.