II

To know thee is all wisdom, and old age

Is but to know thee: dimly we behold thee

Athwart the veils of evil which infold thee.

We beat upon our aching hearts in rage;

We cry for thee; we deem the world thy tomb.

As dwellers in lone planets look upon

The mighty disk of their majestic sun,

Hollowed in awful chasms of wheeling gloom,

Making their day dim, so we gaze on thee.

Come, thou of many crowns, whiterobéd love,

Oh! rend the veil in twain: all men adore thee;

Heaven crieth after thee; earth waiteth for thee:

Breathe on thy wingéd throne, and it shall move

In music and in light o'er land and sea.