A rush of angels, wistful and aware,
That shook a thousand colors on the air—
Colors that made a music to the eye—
Glories of lilac, azure, gold, vermilion,
Blown from the air-hung delicate pavilion.
And now His face grew bright with luminous will:
The great grave eyes grew planet-like and still.
Yea, in that moment all His face fire-white
Seemed struck out of imperishable light.
Delicious apprehension shook the spirit,