Round me weave a glistening zone.
Lilies, as they wind extending,
Roses with those lilies blending.
9. See! th’ horizon’s ring they circle;
Now they gird the zenith blue;
And now, o’er every brake and billow
Float like mist and flash like dew.
All the earth, with life o’erflowing,
Into heavenly shapes is growing!
10. They are rising! they are rising!