Still did it brighten, still its stature rise,
With Heaven’s own grandeur seeming to augment;—
The pilgrim staff no longer did it hold,
But on an Anchor leant that blazed ethereal gold.
XLV.
Our Father gazed, and, from that heavenward eye,
Beheld the clear angelic radiance flow;
And saw that figure, as it towered on high,
With inward glory fill, dilate and grow
Translucent,—and then fade,—as from the sky