When, for thy feet, those valves shall play,
How soon this grandeur fleets away,
How, through a vista vast and clear,
These eyes shall look, these ears shall hear,
Preluding my eternity,
Deep stops unmouthed in symphony—
Hymns of an inexpressive choir,
Or tremblings of a winnowed fire.
O Thou, who laidst thy splendors by,
To show me how to live and die,