Breathe, Regal Spirit, a
Flashing soul for Viola!
VI.
The Father of Heaven.
Child-angels, from your wings
Fall the roseal hoverings,
Child-angels, from your wings,
On the cheeks of Viola.
Linger, rosy reflex, a
Quenchless stain, on Viola!
All things being accomplished, saith the Father of Heaven.
Bear her down, and bearing, sing,
Bear her down on spyless wing,
Bear her down, and bearing, sing,
With a sound of viola.
Angels.
Music as her name is, a
Sweet sound of Viola!