I saw how all the trembling ages past,

Moulded to her by deep and deeper breath,

Neared to the hour when Beauty breathes her last

And knows herself in death.

THE DIVINE VISION

This mood hath known all beauty for it sees

O'erwhelmed majesties

In these pale forms, and kingly crowns of gold

On brows no longer bold,

And through the shadowy terrors of their hell

The love for which they fell,

And how desire which cast them in the deep

Called God too from his sleep.

O, pity, only seer, who looking through

A heart melted like dew,

Seest the long perished in the present thus,

For ever dwell in us.

Whatever time thy golden eyelids ope

They travel to a hope;

Not only backward from these low degrees

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