VIII.
In awe my spirit kneels—
And seems before a hallowed shrine;
Yet not the majesty of Art it feels,
But Nature's law divine—
The presence of her mighty Architect!
Who piled these pyramidal hills sublime,
That still, pure moon, thy radiance will reflect,
And still defy the crumbling touch of Time:
Who built this temple of gigantic trees,
Where Nature's worshipers repair
To pray the heart's unuttered prayer,
Whose veiled thought the great Omniscient sees.