And gave thy lips a golden trump, that, though
Long years have passed since other angels came
To work the mighty wonders of His name,—
In God's own name and man's, thyself shalt go
Forever on strong pinions to and fro,
And round the earth reverberating blow
The mute, world-shaking music of the mind;
That thou might'st make as naught all space and time,
And thrill in mystic oneness through mankind,
Yet dwell in each, inviolate, sublime.