7

The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go-
The Crocus- til she rises
The Vassal of the snow-
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore
Til bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.

Pearls are the Diver's farthings
Extorted from the Sea-
Pinions- the Seraph's wagon
Pedestrian once- as we-
Night is the morning's Canvas
Larceny- legacy-
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.

My figures fail to tell me
How far the Village lies-
Whose peasants are the Angels-
Whose Cantons dot the skies-
My Classics veil their faces-
My faith that Dark adores-
Which from its solemn abbeys
Such ressurection pours.