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.