And blossom into hope—where angels come
On missioned wings from their far homes in heaven,
To chant their Eden songs.
I love thee not
With the wild, wayward love of earth, and yet
If worship be that deep idolatry
The heathen pays in homage to the sun,
Then I have worshiped thee, for I have bowed
In passions deep and holy hour to thee,
And at thy shrine of beauty offered up