Thy sacred image in their mirror, smooth
As sculpture of the shining limbs they soothe;
And clothe thyself in pureness like the sun,
With lily lawn and blue of heaven, spun
From spotless fields of interstellar space—
A seamless shrine to keep thy inward grace.
Put on thy broidered robe, thy bride’s attire,
Put on thy glory, and the jewel fire
Of fearless thought, nor let thine handmaids spare,
All grateful tribute from the sweet and fair