Before the sun led on the circling hours,
Or vital seeds produced their active powers;
Before the first intelligences strung
Their golden harps and soft preludiums sung
To Love, the mighty cause whence their existence sprung,
Th’ ineffable Divinity
His own resemblance meets in thee.
By this thy glorious lineage thou dost prove
Thy high descent—for God Himself is Love.
Mrs. Rowe.