f mighty angels fair and tall,
Each robed as priestly seneschal,
On altar-suns burn incense daily,
As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call,
Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose,
Abloom from dawn to day's bright close.
The mighty angel stoops above it
With pulsing wings, as it golden glows,
To fan the incense-waves through space.
When buds the light or folds its grace,
He lifts erect his glorious stature,
Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.
cross the hills the cattle call,
As black the boding shadows fall;
Zigzag the lightning writes its message
That's thundered forth from the mountain wall.
From out the overhanging frown
The loosened rain comes rattling down!
The swallow's gone, the daisy cowers—
But joy to fields in their tan and brown!
The burnished cypher of the sky
Now lets the loud-tongued thunder die.
Nature's delight, a timeless rapture,