The more we worship him, the more we grow

Into thy perfect image here below;

For here below, as in the spheres above,

All Love is Beauty, and all Beauty, Love!

Not from the things around us do we draw

Thy light within; within the light is born;

The growing rays of some forgotten morn,

And added canons of eternal law.

The painter’s picture, the rapt poet’s song,

The sculptor’s statue, never saw the Day;