Veils clothed thy might; veils draped thy charm;
The might they tracked, but I the grace;
They learnt all forces were thine Arm,
I that all beauty was thy Face.
Night spares us little. Wanderers we.
Our rapt delights, our wisdoms rare
But shape our darknesses of thee,—
We know thee not, thou Spirit fair!
Would that thine awful Peerlessness
An hour could shine o'er heaven and earth,