And light green tendrils?
Father. Thou hast mark’d it well.
Yes! a pale, starry, dreamy-looking flower,
As from a land of spirits! To mine eye
Those faint, wan petals—colourless, and yet
Not white, but shadowy—with the mystic lines
(As letters of some wizard language gone)
Into their vapour-like transparence wrought,
Bear something of a strange solemnity,
Awfully lovely!—and the Christian’s thought