Yon lilies where the falling water sings
Are fairer-robed than choristers of kings.
Lift now your heads! yon golden bars
That build the porch of heaven, seas
Of silver-sailing golden stars—
Yea, these are yours, and all of these!
For yonder king hath never yet been told
Of silver seas that sail these ships of gold.
They turned, they raised their heads on high;
They saw, the first time saw and knew,