Swift beat his heart, and trembling more,
He entered, to a gold dim space
Flame-lit before an altar daïs,
Rose-garlanded, most fair and meet,
And all the air was still and sweet,
But over these in fairer case
Shone the clear semblance of a face.
He knelt before that altar stone,
The anthem soothed his heart’s faint tone,
And seraph voices high and soft,