ONE set apart in days of old From crowded haunts and mortal eyes, Saw gates, like leaves of pearl unfold, And heard the harps of Paradise, While o'er his thoughts, a hallowed spell, The present sense of heaven, fell. So, shimmering through the mountain mist I, too, a miracle behold: A temple, brave with amethyst, And opal tints and gleams of gold, In mystic beauty deigns to rear Its pomps of pillared splendor here. Fair house of God, not made with hands, Thy walls are laid beneath the sea; Thy glittering arches span the lands In light aerial symmetry; Thy dome is crowned with living fire, Thou long enchantment of desire. And far along thy sweeping nave Are fragrant censers swinging low; And sweet from solemn architrave The blending echoes meet and flow— As bird and flower, awakening, pour Their rapture through thine open door. O silver dawn! O listening hush! O kindling glory of the morn! What beauty in the roseate flush, What sheen of gems on leaf and thorn! How near to God the spirit waits Who worships in the morning gates. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KILLED AT THE FORD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ELEGIAC STANZAS SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF PEELE CASTLE, IN A STORM by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH NATALITIUM: MARTIJ 13, 1645 by JOSEPH BEAUMONT INTO THE SALIENT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |